Who's to say that love needs to be soft and gentle?
by coffeentea7
Summary: Alexandra Cabot enlightens Olivia Benson to heightened pleasure by utilizing the whole gamut of sensation. Set within season 3. More of an erotica novella than a romance novel. Consensual and romanticized kink, rough sex, and S/M is present. Eleven chapters done out of . . .
1. The Office

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug* Some S/M is present, probably more than some *shrug* It's a steamy little number more erotica than romance. Enjoy!

**Quickie: **Light S/M makes an appearance.

* * *

**Part 1: The office**

"Alright, after re-interviewing the Wilshire's son tomorrow I'll head back to the center and talk to any volunteers we may have missed."

It was strange, Alex asking Olivia to stop by her office for such trivial updates. Usually she spoke to Cragen about these details and brainstormed with him about the next step- investigative and legal. Chain of command and all that, but she had called fifteen -minutes before Olivia was going to leave and the detective wouldn't pass any opportunity to be in her presence.

Their conversation had been nothing noteworthy. Just re-iterating what Cragen had already requested based upon what Alex had requested. Olivia was sitting on the love seat, leaning a little forward, her elbows resting comfortably on parted legs. No airs in her black slacks and tight blue cotton tee- while Alex sat on the edge of her desk. This was one of Olivia's favorite images and tonight was no disappointment. The young ADA was in a burgundy button up, three undone, and dark grey pencil skirt. It had two small slits on either side that ended at her knees. Her legs were crossed at the ankle and her shoulders were slightly raised from holding up weight- causing her chest to push out. Alex had rarely broken eye contact through-out the mundane conversing but when it did occur Olivia used the time well and traveled up the toned calves, occasionally resting on the kissable collar-bone. With only one floor lamp on in the room Alex's skin almost glowed a ghostly white.

"Is there anything else?" Olivia didn't really want to ask, it meant she would be leaving soon, but the exchange had reached a long lull.

"Yes actually."

Alex rose for the door. Olivia was about to get-up, taking this as a signal to head out, but her movement was interrupted by the distinctive 'click' of the lock. As the detective raised a single eye brow, Alex turned around slowly and leaned into the door as if trying to push it further shut. Her hands were turned back, fingers wide, with one leg bent- allowing her heel to lay flat against the wood. The lighting didn't really allow Olivia to see through the square framed glasses, but the shift in the gorgeous blonde's body language was noticeably . . . feral. Alex allowed the confusion to dwindle before breaking the silence.

"Place your hands palm down by your thighs."

Though her voice's register dropped a half-step, each syllable was perfectly enunciated- as they always were. Olivia's dry throat made it difficult to swallow the lodged lump. Placed there by what appeared to be a swift turn of events.

"What?" She couldn't have heard her correctly.

Alex didn't respond right away. She savored the charged moment in stillness, never leaving the questioning deep-brown eyes. After having her fill she gracefully pushed off the door. As she sauntered towards Olivia her long elegant fingers began working a delicate dance down her blouse- releasing one button after another.

"Place your hands palm down by your thighs."

She repeated herself verbatim, as if her fingers were acting of their own accord. Olivia wasn't sure if her imagination had finally won out over reality. She was unable to trust instincts when it came to the ADA- they were tainted by hormonal urges. But Alex _was_ taking off her shirt, wasn't she?

"Alex? I-"

"Alexandra-" was the swift correction.

"-and I will not repeat myself a third time." By now the last button had been undone.

Though her words were stern Cabot's hands remained graceful- pulling corners slightly to even out the silky cloth, leaving a thin strip of skin to view. Olivia, despite the deep wet stir of anticipation, was afraid to let her gaze wander from the hidden stare. A survival instinct that insisted she know what the other person was thinking. She needed collected observations to gain bearing and eyes always gave the biggest tell. Yet, without her mind's consent, her hands willingly rested in the ordered position- on either side of her slightly spread thighs. As soon as they hit the couch Olivia felt another deep stir.

Alex tilted her head, acknowledging the compliance. She would have praised Olivia but it was apparent her body was acting of its' own accord. She then walked a little closer, just out of arms reach, and noted the heavy rise and fall of the detective's chest- a show of conflicted arousal. Her look shifted up into Olivia's glossed over eyes and stayed there while methodically removing her glasses- gently letting them fall onto the coffee table. The slight thud seemed deafening and distant to Olivia, who was now melting beneath the icy fire of her desire's scrutiny. She was trying to process the hunger behind those crisp lagoons when a movement around Alex's chest distracted her. A right hand was lightly traveling around her collar-bone and caressing the slight peak of cleavage created by breasts. Alex continued to observe Olivia's reaction to the subtle selfish grazes and felt a twinge at the almost undivided attention.

_This is happening_. Olivia could barely manage a thought, transfixed by the hand's meanderings.

"You always look but never touch." There was a smirk behind Alex's words as her left hand joined the right- slowly parting the curtain of burgundy.

"Always want but never act." The wetness that was inside started to dampen Olivia's hidden lips as she was given audience to Alex's black lace bra, to the pale shadows around her ribs, to the promise of a toned abdomen beneath the high-waist skirt. She wanted to be those hands, better yet- wanted to have her own hands relieve them. And now those slender hands were rubbing down her hips roughly and slowly- until they abruptly stopped and tensed.

"It's cruel." The sharp low tone startled Olivia. Her mind snapped to attention and back into those gleaning eyes. She didn't see anger behind the blue but aggression.

"Making me feel like I'm being undressed but never undressing me." Her hands released their tension and started to clutch at her skirt. Olivia couldn't focus anywhere else as the hem line raised inch by inch, Alex bunching it up in fistfuls, revealing more and more of her shifting creamy white thighs.

"Making my heat rise but never feeding the flames." Alex was pleased that, although she was at this time directly in front of Olivia, only the detective's view had done any movement.

Now that she had more freedom of motion she daintily bent her right knee and rested it directly on-top of Olivia's down turned palm. She stayed there for a moment; enjoying the increase of heavy breathing it elicited. Enjoying the false sense of security her right hand created as she gently threaded fingers through her prey's short hair. Alex leaned down, slightly increasing the weight, and stopped pursed lips millimeters from her left ear. Punctuating with a low pin pointed hum-

"Making me feel like I'm being fucked but never giving me release." She let the sensual sentence and sensation of breath linger before acting.

Her left hand forcefully grabbed Olivia's right shoulder as she swiftly swung her left knee and drove it into the other arm with precise momentum. Through this movement, the hair she had been caressing was given a harsh rash tug. She was almost snarling as the detective's head jerked back. The quick cry of pain that shot out of Olivia's mouth was a half moan, low and hoarse. Provoked by the sudden straddle a primal urge took over and Olivia hungrily dove towards the breasts so close in front of her. Instead of receiving milky white flesh her head snapped left, this time from a rigid slap. A throbbing burn mingled with the sting.

"You don't get to touch."Alex gave in earnest response to the angry and confused target.

Olivia didn't move, but she didn't look away either. She wasn't sure what exactly was happening but her body was sure it didn't want it to stop. Cabot kept her grip tight in Olivia's hair, looking down into her, through her. Momentarily satisfied that the detective was reigned in a little Alex began a non-committal grind with her hips. The action caused additional pressure to Olivia's arms and every time the ADA's center was inches away from her sex the arousal was marked with a sharp shot through their bones. Alex started to slow her undulation as Olivia's thighs spread a little more with each gyration- never breaking eye contact, never reacting, never giving an inch for the detective to decipher. Olivia could feel the rousing build of want and the denial of anything but this limited, painful, and impersonal contact seethed frustration within the pleasure. Her legs spread far enough that Alex's crotch grazed rough fabric. The tormentor finally showed enjoyment and tilted her blonde head back with a moan. Olivia tried to take the opportunity to wriggle free and find satiation through kissing the gloriously exposed long neck.

Sensing the disobedience about to take place, Alex immediately pushed her weight forward again and brought another back-handed slap across her face. It was followed quickly by two more with the same cadence, alternating cheeks. Olivia was unsure what hurt more, the pulsing in her arms or the pulsing in her cheeks. While she recovered from the assault Alex efficiently unbuckled the leather belt beneath her roughly as she re-iterated sternly-

"I said _you_ don't get to touch."

Alex could see, to her amusement, the clouded fury behind Olivia's darkened brown eyes. Her cheeks were bright red with a purple coming through the olive skin. The red and purple were Alex's doing, the brightness- Olivia's brash anger.

"I could take you." Olivia husked out in response, amazed that even in her impassioned threat a small whimper harmonized with her defiance.

Alex let out a soft wet laugh as her right hand regained its' hold of the short dark hair and her left pointer finger caressed the beautifully painted cheek. The light touch created a numb tickling sensation and it threw the detective off guard again. All these feelings were familiar yet foreign. Her senses constantly seemed at odds while working in tandem towards the same goal- pleasure.

"Correction, you _could_ have taken me." Alex's finger traced a line down Olivia's jaw, neck, and chest. The pressure was only light enough to indent the cloth- a remembrance of touch, not a promise; a stark contrast to moments before.

"But you didn't." Olivia's breath caught as she felt the hand softly unbutton her pants.

"So now . . . "- her face was in a heated pain but the throbbing became drowned out by the subtle sound and feeling of her zipper coming down.

"I'm taking you." She was being punished for her inaction. She was being deliciously, achingly, wonderfully- before Olivia could finish the strain those exquisite hands interrupted. Even as they squeezed into her slacks the fingers had an enviable grace.

As Alex found the wetness that had pooled there she released a small amazed gasp. As a single finger enjoyed running up the warm, slick, slit she moaned in tandem with Olivia's shuddered response. She could feel the build of want there already and the realization caused her forehead to lean onto Olivia's, soft hair tickling the detective's jaw.

Lost in the tactile travels around moist folds Alex was almost caught off guard. Olivia- grasping for more, wanting impatiently for more, tried again to make gratuitous contact. This time the toned tease actually had the audacity to go for a kiss. The authoritative Cabot wrenched her hair with such force the only reason none tore out was the volume contained within her fist. Olivia bawled, a small tear releasing from the corner of her eye. Alex interrupted the dramatics with a tight pinch to her erect clit while in the same moment biting down hard at the exposed skin between her chest and shoulder. The cry instantaneously became a stifled wail of bliss. Olivia never knew that place was so sensitive and the sharp hold amplified the sharp pinch. Her body began fusing piercing pleasure with piercing pain as her breathes sprinted through puckered full lips.

Alex was electrified by the response and reveled in the tumultuous ride a top- never releasing the grip on Olivia's hair, never lightening her carnivorous vice, never shifting her press on the hard pearl. Olivia unknowingly was the cause of any additional raw shot or tantalizing twinge while incessantly rocking. Cabot just had to continue her hold. As her victim calmed to some degree Alex unfastened her mouth and licked the red copper drops left on her lips. The fingers that had been pinching Olivia's clit now lengthened. They rubbed her slit with the same lazy speed as before but now with slight additional pressure. Two fingers continued their laps as one rested its' tip teasingly at her cunt. Olivia's body freed all remaining tension and melted into the caresses. A moan surfaced from her core- then everything abruptly stopped. A whine escaped her throat as Alex withdrew her hand.

"One more time and I leave you craving." She stared at Alex, imploring. She was afraid to plea, afraid to move, afraid to do anything that would stop what had been started. She _would_ be left craving. She would be left with a craving she didn't know how to satisfy, how to request.

With a sneer smile Alex brought her three moistened fingers up and held them in the narrow space between their faces while trailing her upper lip with her tongue. Olivia unintentionally whimpered. Alex's tongue retreated back into her mouth and she raised a reproachful eye brow- leaving the fingers where they were, daring her to fuss again. Olivia forced controlled breaths and stared directly into the blazing blue eyes. She wanted Alex to see how hard she was fighting, how good she was being despite how much she wanted. How much Alex had made her want. Satisfied, Alex's tongue repeated its' trail then the tip licked lightly. She saw fierce passion flash through dilated pupils but the detective remained still. Still holding onto her hair, still inches away, Alex brought the fingers into her own mouth and savored the salty, earthy taste. There were no added theatrics as she licked and sucked, she was truly just enjoying the liquid arousal- making it even more difficult for Olivia to control herself. After substantial appreciation Alex pulled her fingers from her mouth, scraping the skin with her teeth to get every clinging morsel. As she delivered the hand back to Olivia's sex-

"Good."

Her fingers began to move with purpose. Rubbing Olivia's slit, circling her erect clit, teasing her cunt, eliciting wave after crescendo-ing wave of pleasure. She even allowed Olivia's hips to grind in participation. And Olivia knew this was true, she was being allowed. Even though each gyration added to the pressure Alex's knees had on her arms, the pain had become drowned out by the energy pulsating from her very center. No, the pain wasn't a background player, it was a full on member-harmonizing with the pleasure; enhancing it. Olivia couldn't analyze this anymore, couldn't focus anymore. Every sense was heightened; every sensation was melding into another, and another, and another.

Alex kept her forehead against Olivia's, occasionally tilting her head to the side and gasping at some treasure of a felt twitch, of wetness, of sound. Her other hand continued its' forceful hold of Olivia's head, releasing on occasion, then with a light reaffirming tug regaining its place. Sometimes it let go all together and gave another quick tight slap to her cheek. Each slap occurred right as Olivia's clit felt it was about to hit too high a pitch. Each slap made it so her clit could scream higher and higher than thought possible. Alex leaned slightly back for each one, causing a finger to almost enter each time. Never giving the satisfaction of being filled- only magnifying the build. The pace increased when Olivia needed it to, increased when Alex felt or heard a subtle response that told her it was time to. Their breathing increased with the physical exertion, with the tight space they were confined to, with the tightening hold of an orgasm neither wanted to embrace soon. Then, there was no choice.

Olivia's back arched once again. This time it was from sheer blinding ecstasy shattering through her. The blaring orgasm shot a guttural scream out of her in a register beyond human ears. At its' height, Alex quickly took her fingers back and grabbed Olivia's upturned face- muffling the bright cries with a ferocious kiss that was insatiably possessive of any sound trying to escape those luscious lips. The wetness on her fingers caused them to slip from their hold and Alex was constantly adjusting their position on Olivia's cheek.

Feeling the cum slip on her skin, feeling the tongue that was claiming every inch of her mouth with long flat strokes, feeling her body pulse and pulse with wanting aftershocks- all this caused Olivia to never seek release and almost black out for lack of air. Alex let go just as the tunnel was closing, drove her palm into the still fresh bite-mark, and pushed her groin hard into Olivia's center. Everything came into stark focus. Energy jolted up Olivia from her sex through her spine in an unexpected encore. Alex, almost screaming, convulsed atop. Both women soon heaved gasping breaths, head into the other's shoulder, orgasms erratically drumming down.

Drops fell from Olivia's dewed brow. Their body heat created a sauna with the scent of sex and exertion. Olivia's arms were still pinned beneath Alex's legs, stray blonde hairs sticking to two necks as she laid into the straddle. Her fore-arms felt nothing anymore, her wound throbbed, her cheek was raw, the back of her head tingled- she had no desire to move, no desire to spend. She only noticed Alex had shifted her weight back when she no longer had a something to lean into.

Still twitching below and recovering above she watched Alex adjust her hair and put on the glasses she had been reaching for. Olivia's breathing was still on the heavy side yet Alex already seemed fully composed. Only a hint remained in the slightly exaggerated rise and fall of her sternum. Somehow her fingers felt cool as she gently tilted Olivia's head side to side and said under her breath-

"No bruising."

She sounded, disappointed. She turned her attention to Olivia's chest. A single digit rested on the red bite with soft small caresses, an amazed and satisfied look on her face. She leaned down and gave it an innocent lingering kiss.

"It'll heal all too soon."

Alex's focus shifted into the observing eyes. She gave away nothing more in her gaze and soon removed herself from the humid lap with graceful ease. She concentrated on the next task and buttoned up her shirt swiftly, yet without hurry, then smoothed her skirt and hair. Olivia watched, limp from the marathon of barging sensations, enthralled by the swift transformation. Standing before her was Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot- ready to request her next subpoena, ready for court, ready to stake claim on those halls with her six-inch heels. As she grabbed her briefcase from the desk a panic set over the detective.

"Alex?"

It was more pleading than a question. Alex cocked her head in recognition of sound, stopping for only a moment.

"You may want to get an early start. Wilshire is booked solid after ten."

With that Alex grabbed her coat and opened the door. She leaned into the frame briefly then looked over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow Benson."

Her head tilted back to the hallway.

"Lock up when you leave."

Olivia's mind was in the calm before a storm as Alex walked out, the door wide open.


	2. The Courtroom

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug* It's a steamy little number more erotica than romance. Enjoy!

**Quickie****: **A bit of set-up.

* * *

_**Part 2: The Courtroom**_

**_35 days earlier. . ._**

_What was that?_

Olivia Benson could have sworn she saw Alexandra Cabot give a small self-delighted smirk just after the judge's admonishment. The ADA had raced questions through the defense attorney's objection and charged over the judge's acknowledgement that she was "out of line". After the court's superior had re-iterated that Cabot was "on thin ice", the young blonde turned back to her table eyes down cast and smirked?

She knew Alex enjoyed the court room proceedings, perhaps a little too much at times, but that smile. It had a private enjoyment of carnal nature behind it. Of course, that could just be a projection of Olivia's own lust. Watching Alex in the courtroom, much to the detective's delight and disgust, felt like fore-play at times. At least, her body re-acted like it was.

_Just a mirage**- **_Benson decided.

Olivia continued to take in details as the trial continued with the defense's rebuttal. The detective was sitting far to the left and in the back, giving her almost a profile view of the determined ADA. Noticing microscopic gestures, tiny changes in timber, and reading illuminated thoughts projecting onto irises- this was Benson's job. Most of her job any way. Assessing gathered observations- creating a model for investigative use that kept her in control. Alex was the anomaly. Her theoretically built identity was no more solid than a sandcastle. One that was remodeled by surprising actions, demolished by doubts, and hurriedly reconstructed before another wave wiped it clean. Olivia had little control in this context; small grains of fine sand constantly slipping through figurative fingers.

Honey hair shimmered as it shifted slightly. Alex cocked her head after hearing a tasty morsel of ambiguity from the "experts" statement. She would painfully devour it during cross and love it. As the facts-for-hire continued his puppet show of joker's statistics Cabot impatiently started fiddling with her pen between notes.

When it was her turn the scientist didn't have a chance in hell. He stammered to answer her assault of questions, tripping slightly on his words. The ADA was keeping her pace fast, steady and sure- daring him to keep up. Her hands stayed clasped behind her back with no need for distracting gestures, her words were ammunition enough. Each click of Cabot's tall black heels on the wood floor was set in tempo with her crisp annunciation. Each click sent a quick throb through Olivia's center, causing her to shift in her seat. The heat was no longer rising, it was melting. The defense's expert had a red flush covering his face by the time Alex halted her physical and verbal attack. The only sound his indignant breathing before the final blow.

"So, it appears your 'research' gives us no actual insight into Mister Carter's mindset at all. It just brings more ambiguity to an already ambiguous'science'."

"Objection!"

"Withdrawn."

Cabot subtly skimmed the jurors as she headed to her chair. If this had been a Roman Coliseum all their thumbs would be turned down.

As the trial continued the predatory energy around her subsided slightly and Olivia's sexually charged energy cooled with it. Alex was leaning back in her chair, showing nothing but confidence with an open air and Olivia was able to follow what was going on. She had a minor role in this case and wasn't really needed. Those were some of her favorite cases to attend when time permitted. She didn't feel as guilty when yearning popped in and would occasionally allow fantasy to join the gathering. Now the defendant was on the stand.

"I have just a few minor questions for clarification if you wouldn't mind Mister Carter." The ADA's voice was languid and low- perfect for putting a false sense of ease into the guilty party.

This time she kept her pace slow, not moving from her position, eyes fixed on the man she was speaking to. The courtroom almost had to strain to hear her, causing them to hang on her every word. His answers were always awkwardly loud in comparison, making the jurors almost cringe- not because of what he said, just how he said it. Alex's cool, soothing voice became a haven for the senses. Olivia wasn't an exception; she wanted to lay in that voice, stroke that voice, to _be _stroked by that voice. He started rambling a bit more than was necessary, answering as if comfortably conversing with some buddies at a bar, unaware that he was the annoying table everyone wanted to leave. He was the selfishly jovial ass that was ruining their Friday night with his trumpeting yammer. Olivia didn't even know a trap was being set, until Carter said one detail too many. A detail he had originally stated he didn't notice, a detail that was supposed to have slipped his 'troubled' mind, a detail Alex was waiting patiently for him to mention. And mention it he did, loudly and clumsily. He hadn't caught it, transfixed by the imagined sweet smile he saw the ADA give him before grabbing a report from her desk.

She didn't even have to search for the key phrase, it had always been ready. Her questions became more like statements as she listed and kept on listing all the previous dates and times he claimed to be incoherent. The justification of his pattern of behavior was falling apart after that one slip. Her timber stayed low but was driven with purpose. She was the kind waitress reminding him that other people wanted to enjoy their evening; she was the assured manager who listened to your silent complaint and kicked him out of the bar. He was trying to back track but it was too late. Her voice now over-powering his futile attempts, she was a run-away train with a burning engine. Olivia's engine started to burn once again.

_I need to stop watching these_.

It was a half-hearted admonishment that Benson had no intention of following up on. She found that her attraction to Alex was easier to 'manage' with allowances made every once in a while. A sort of Cabot patch to help her quit. She was too self-aware for denial and cold-turkey would only encourage inner rebellion. These moments pleased and frustrated her in unfamiliar patterns. Court proceedings had never affected her in such a titillating manner before. She was attracted to the complicated ADA. And it was probably the only pleasure she was going to get from the long-legged bombshell. She refused to admit how wild her attraction was, how difficult it was to tame. No one scrutinized the detective in the back-she was just another set of eyes on the arguing lawyers. In this case, lawyer. Enough balance was found in these spying stretches to pretend they helped.

A stout sound spurted through Olivia's introspection. The judge was pounding his gavel. She had no idea why it was being banged.

"One more time Miss Cabot and these proceedings are over!"

Alexandra turned to the back, head down and for Olivia time ticked to almost nothing. She watched as the light pink tongue slowly trailed her upper lip, she saw the slight sigh that was almost a moan as Cabot drew her teeth into its' bottom with that same smirk. The pearly whites reluctantly let go of their red captive before facing the judge again. It was a brief moment- one that would have been missed by most anyone, but not by a trained professional whose eyes could be tried for stalking. Olivia felt her breath catch at the hidden gesture.

"No further questions your honor." The damage had been done and the jury had lost all reasonable doubt.

_That happened_. Olivia stayed on Alex as she sat down. The defense attorney attempted to clean up the carnage his adversary had left in her wake. His rebuttal sounded distant and underwater to the enthralled spectator. She had always felt the ADA was walking sex on two tempting legs, but never viewed her as being aware of the baser nature in humans.

_Does she enjoy being scolded?_ Olivia caught the slight motion of Alex shifting in her seat and crossing her legs. She knew that movement. It was the same one she found herself doing too often in the lawyer's presence. Alex was turned on. This turned Olivia on. Alex could be turned on. Of course that was true, but why hadn't she really thought about it before?

_Maybe she gets a thrill from skirting the line._ Alex brushed some hair from her face as the court rose for recess, giving the detective a better look at the slight bloom fading from her pale skin. Fantasy popped in a greeting as Olivia imagined trailing the retreating color with kisses-or perhaps a bit of rough play to pepper some purple onto that creamy neck.

Olivia hadn't realized how intently she stared until Cabot's eyes looked up over the rim of her glasses, right at her. She had been caught, there was no way the content of her musings wasn't apparent. The perceptive gaze sitting atop the thick black frames from Alex's slightly down turned head gave Olivia such a wash of pleasure that she didn't care. She was unwilling to look away. They both lingered for just a heart beat too long. Alex finally raised her head and gave Olivia an "it's in the bag" smile and walked over.

"I did a bit of rough horse-play but I think the jury can see through his guise now."

The first part of that sentence kept whirling through Olivia's mind. Images of "rough" play joining the echo in a dizzying dance. Alex continued to look at her as if waiting for a response, a re-action, recognition . . . anything. As the blue eyes widened a bit at the lengthy silence Olivia found her voice.

"So that's considered horseplay? When the judge almost throws you out?" She said through a small chuckle. A quick quip, some quick wit, humor always helped her get grounded. She was back.

Alex just shrugged.

"Judge Harris likes a stoic, civilized courtroom."

"Good thing you're playing to the jury." Olivia mentioned as they were exiting.

"Yeah, "Alex stopped at the railing and looked over her shoulder at the detective "but I'd much prefer someone who could handle a bit more heat."

And there it was- that impish smirk. Flashed for a moment then gone with a turn of the head, blonde hair falling perfectly back in place.

"See you in less than thirty Benson." Olivia didn't need to be there for the jury's verdict. How did Alex know she would? Of course, it was rare to not see a trial through until the end- but she was a busy detective.

Olivia stayed transfixed at the railing, watching the ADA strut towards the stairs. She took time to enjoy the sway of her hips; the pert cheeks of her ass, the sharp staccato of her heels. Only after Alex turned the corner did she look towards the high windows and release a loud sigh into the bustle below.

Reproach, skirting the line, heat- she didn't know exactly what made this gorgeous attorney tick. It had only been a couple of years working with her, a couple of years with the constant push and pull of want. It was tempting to buck-up and stop questioning. Commit to a line of action. Finally use her academy education and years of on the job experience to get to the bottom of this, this person. At that thought, a crooked smile played across her lips while she became lost again to her day dreams.

_I'd love to get to her bottom._


	3. The Interrogation Room

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug* It's a steamy little number more erotica than romance. Enjoy!

**Quickie:** A bit more set-up.

* * *

**Part 3: The Interrogation Room**

**_30 days earlier. . . _**

Alexandra Cabot ached to dip into her honey pot and release the build that had been gathering for the last ten minutes. Olivia was playing yet another role while questioning a suspect, Alex was yet again struggling to compartmentalize through the haze of hunger, and that's all it had been- ten minutes.

"I understand Vic, can I call you that? Vic?"

Her words trickled through an innocent smile, her tone infused purity with distilled wanton abandonment- just one of many appealing characters within Benson's repertoire. The real skill was her ability to sense which one would inspire the desired result.

"Women have _needs_, we do. And we don't always know how to express them."

"You can call me Vic."

The two-way glass made a frustrating observation deck. Alex wanted to circle the room over and over- steadfast laps burning a three-dimensional memory into storage for future use. Instead she played with her necklace's silver strand, her itching fingers focused on the charm in order to keep her stance relaxed. Cragen's presence beside her was cumbersome in its practicality. Originally she had come in to talk to him about another case but her priorities shifted with his mime of silence. As he gestured to the interrogation room Alex put aside her intentions, instead she took advantage of her unintentional timing.

Olivia had been at it for a little over thirty minutes at that point. Alex was familiar with this case. The guy was an animal. There was nothing calculating about his process but he was definite serial potential. Fortunately the crime scenes reeked of "beginner". It was a bitter-sweet fortunately, but favored none-the less. SVU had to do a lot of canvassing and a lot of digging. A chaotic expanse of information skillfully round-up through conversation, observation, and reading. Eventually it all created a thread of evidence that lead to this large crass individual. The intelligence of the detective and her team was not lost on Alex. In the maelstrom of Manhattan criminals like Victor had the odds in their favor; no detective, no lawyer could truly be great when directly compared with the mass of illicit behavior. So they were hard on each other and themselves more often than soft. The never-ending pursuit of eminence is a life little desire and even less understand. And here was a unit that lost themselves to it constantly and here was a woman who forced fear through the fire, letting it ignite her in new ways- all the while keeping her compassion in tack. She could be a perfect match for Alexandra, but to pursue was risky for more than just professional reasons. It was risky for reasons beyond a poet's naïve expressions. Alexandra's needs were . . . distinct.

"Is that what you do Vic? Read our needs? Help us _express_ them?"

Victor Torrence was obviously conflicted. Even though his countenance showed some distrust his mind wanted to dive head first into the sensual trap this wonderful women was weaving. It was so apparent Alex smirked at his weakness. She took great pride in her fortitude. Control was built upon patience. It had an eye for subtle nuances and knew how to re-act. It knew when to act, and better still- when to persevere for the purpose of transcendence. Her desire for this modern-day Artemis verged on desperation, but that didn't mean she was going to pounce the detective in a wild frenzy, _yet_.

Olivia was leaning over him, her bosom practically grazing his shoulder, her hand almost touching him while resting on his chair. Hidden deep inside was absolute disgust, but that wouldn't get results. Vic was the kind of perp. who just needed a nudge. His two victims were blitzed; the destruction was frantic and quick. His DNA littered the scene, but they couldn't connect him well enough for a warranted comparison. Damn guy wasn't in the system yet- hence the journey into another perverse mind for a confession.

"Only with consent of course" Victor finally responded.

He was quite proud of that response. It proved he was a Don Juan, a respectful guy who just so happened to have some sexual prowess. But why did she walk away? He immediately missed the feminine presence behind him and was angry with her.

"Consent?" Olivia raised a single eye-brow.

She was right at the glass in front of Alex and the ADA forced a non-committal gaze at the action through focused anticipation. He was about to get the rug thrown out from under him. This was one of her favorite moments in any of Olivia's interrogations. A passionate force emanated from her during these hurricanes- bending the undesirables until they snapped from skilled propulsion.

"Is _that_ what it's called when they beg you to stop?" Olivia emphasized the hard shift in tone with a sharp turn. She glared into his eyes, saw the anger bubbling below the surface, and knew it was time.

"He doesn't have prayer." Cragen narrated.

Alex made an apathetic sound in response all the while her mind cursing him into silence. She was busy multi-tasking between dutiful attention and obscene fantasy, his need to chime in was not appreciated. She was already missing entire bits to flights of fancy.

"Is _that_ what it's called when Jessica screamed 'no' over and over while you pummeled her into submission?"

Pictures started to fly from the manila folder landing directly in front of him on the table. Olivia whirled detail after detail into him, allowing her disgust to punctuate every syllable. Sickened even more by the hands he used to grope the photos, unable even to try hiding his excitement.

"- their _consent_ coming in gargles while drowning in blood-"

She was standing over him, could hear him breathing through his mouth, could see his pants tenting, she could feel the victims demanding a confession. Demanding she enact justice. Every part of her wanted to beat the living shit out of this waste, but that wouldn't get the job done. He had almost lawyered up when Eliot tried that tactic. Instead she leaned in again, spooning his rot into his gluttonous mind, letting her hushed hard tone tickle his ear, allowing her breasts to graze his shirt, willing her pinky to stay just touching his shoulder.

"So Vic, _that's_ consent? Chloe unconscious beneath you with a broken pelvis inviting your man-hood inside, Jessica's leg twisted from your delicate touch-"

It took Olivia a moment to realize Victor had cum in his pants. She had seen this couple of times, and was grateful that it still shocked her. As she jumped back he jumped with her. He was infuriated by the manipulated pre-mature release, and the bitch needed to pay.

Victor was a mass of a man made swift by anger. Olivia was in his hold before her re-action to his first performance could catch up. Somewhere she heard a scream in another room. His meaty forearm was holding her across the neck tight while the other latched over, pushing it into her trachea.

"Fucking bitches all of you! I didn't even know their names 'til you said 'em- that's how worthless your fucking _consent_ is!"

_At least I got a confession._

Olivia's celebration was short; she was busy tucking her chin- digging it into his flesh as much as she could, anything to stop him from crushing her throat. Elliot was at the door with Cragen and a few other cops but her ears were starting to ring over the sound of their voices. Victor was obviously making threats, highlighting points by flailing her body about; guns were drawn with no potential for a shot.

_I should have let Elliot stay._

She stopped moving her body and became a rag doll in his arms. Even as he loosened his hold just enough she stifled her desire to grasp at air. Everyone was starting to guide their spiked energy, Elliot forcing a calmed exterior, trying to talk him down. Victor started yelling some rant, his attention now on the great injustice of circumstance, and his hold loosened a little more from the distraction. As soon as her feet had grounding on the floor Olivia jettisoned out of her ruse, the pointed end of her elbow carrying enough momentum to crack his jaw. He stumbled back just enough, allowing her continuous movement to remain unanswered until her elbow rammed just below his ribs. Blood sprayed out of his mouth as the wind knocked out of him. Cops rushed in as he fell to the floor. Cragen attempted to remind the crowd that space was needed.

Several officers attended to Victor, not really attended, more like roughly cuffed and half-heartedly assessed his injuries. Elliot guided Olivia to Cragen's office next door. Olivia didn't feel faint, didn't feel hurt, she felt very sturdy, very alive, very . . . pissed. She kept insisting she was fine, not even sure if that was what he was asking as he made her sit in a chair. Some-one handed him a first-aid kit and Elliot spoke to some-one else in the room- something about keeping her here until she was looked at. Before Olivia could see who he was talking to Elliot gently grabbed her face and looked her dead in the eye.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah Elliot, I'm fine. Victor's not, but I am."

He smiled at her smile and wiped around his mouth-

"You got a little something on your face."

Olivia laughed as he left then turned to see Alex on her knees, just one body distance in front of her.

"Alex? You're here. . ?"

Alex laughed.

"I saw you kick three hundred pounds worth of ass, yes."

Olivia laughed again, not as heartily as before. The laugh died because now Cabot, who was on her knees, just inches away, was using a damp cloth to wipe the blood droplets off her face. The touch was gentler than any her body could remember. There was such concentration and tenderness in her clear blue eyes. With a sparkle of something she couldn't place behind them. Her body was still amped, her energy still charged, and the rapid juxtaposition of rough action and subdued gentleness was becoming more and more, overwhelming.

Alex was always amazed at her strength, even more after seeing it in action. It wasn't just the physical, which chiseled power on her thighs and branded form into her arms, but also Olivia's moxie. The combination held great possibilities. Here she was sitting as if no threat had occurred, crimson specks from another in her hair on her face. Still erect and proud, breathing large gulps of air into her ample chest, pulse quickening, licking her lips. . . Alex had been lost in her thoughts until adding it all up. Olivia's gaze was consuming her. This was the first time in her constant staring that boldness blended with the brown. This was the first time the detective acted, seizing her tending hand's wrist with bruising pressure. A petite pleased utterance involuntarily left Cabot with the cutting capture. A storm brewed within Olivia's pupils and Alex wanted her to release its' fury violently. She wanted her to skillfully twist and give another. She wanted her to shove her forward, wanted her to force her lips into a hard demanding kiss. It wouldn't suffice, it shouldn't suffice-but after, the exquisite want that was left would linger for days. No. This was not the place and now was not the time.

Elliot opened the door again and Olivia released her grip swiftly as if waking from a dream.

"Good job cleaning her up counselor. "

Olivia was hoping he couldn't sense the thick air around them. There was thick air right? Alex was getting up and smiling pleasantly. There was nothing in her demeanor to suggest tension. Olivia was off; everything from the interrogation room was catching up and making her feel all out of sorts. At least she thought the disorientation was from all the hub-bub. That seemed like a logical conclusion.

"Come on Benson, captain demands a check-up before you can get back to business."

Olivia groaned as she got up, years of tom-boy charm automatically masking any unease.

"I feel fine!"

"There's bruising across your neck."

Something in Alex's tone made Olivia recall the sound of longing softly traveling a top an intake of breath. An imagined memory, it had no right inserting itself into this moment after the ADA's kindness. Olivia shook her head out of it, rubbed her neck and smiled.

"It'll heal. Thanks for. . ." She was unsure of what exactly she wanted to thank her for.

Fortunately Elliot interrupted while leading her out the door.

"Yeah, thanks Alex. See you soon."

Cabot stood there looking at the open door but not seeing it. Olivia had unknowingly pacified remaining doubts today. Or maybe it was that fantasy now felt so inferior, unrepairably cheapened by a single touch. To be safe, she should be conscientious and exercise some restraint. Alex turned her attention to the red splotched cloth in her hand and enjoyed an instant of day-dream. Until she realized whose blood it was and tossed it into the bin.

_I'll give her ample time to heal._

Alexandra didn't want that scum's mark anywhere on Olivia's artfully designed frame. She wanted a blank canvas to paint unknown pleasures upon.


	4. The Precinct

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug* Some S/M is present, probably more than some *shrug* It's a steamy number more erotica than romance. Enjoy!

**Quickie:**The use of a stapler was inspired by the movie "Secretary", which is also where the title of this little fest came from. (See that movie! *hint*hint*wink*wink*)

* * *

**Part 4: The Precinct**

_WHACK!_

A loud pound reverberated through the precinct with each punch of Olivia's stapler. She hammered through her stack, one report at a time. Her motions were fluid and casual, her beat steady.

_WHACK!_

She had saved them all for Alex. Not to read, but to hear. It had been ten days since the fair skinned dynamo left Olivia a wreck on her office's couch. Ten days since she had forcefully guided her beyond pleasure's thought capabilities. Ten days and Benson had no intention of waiting longer.

The bite mark had served as a constant reminder of that night. Olivia would read it with her fingertips while reminiscing through every detail. She would sometimes push into it hard and feel her womanhood pulse. Other times her hand would be subconsciously drawn and rest upon it, the owner unaware it could pine without her. She would do this so many times in a day that nighttime felt longer- her sex soaked with an urge she refused to release. Masturbation held no appeal. Abstinence became caffeine to her system. Everything she did had a charged focus- sexual frustration surprisingly absent.

Seeing Alex every other work day wasn't torture, this too was surprising. She had left her office as if nothing had occurred. At first Olivia was too bewildered to think or move. Her body felt like it had ridden an out of control wooden coaster. The unbridled speed making every joint and muscle hurt yet somehow numb. She was waiting for the mental barrage of guilt, anger, doubt- but they never came. Instead her mind was blank as she slowly rose from her seat. It remained placid as she buttoned her pants, fixed her hair. Curiosity guided her hands to the back of her neck, to her still hot cheeks, to the searing bite mark. As she obeyed Alexandra's order to "lock-up" she didn't feel degraded. Somehow the simple act elongated their time together, kept it alive past its' prime. She was happy to oblige, wanted to. On her way home Olivia was still waiting for her over analytical self to shred apart the unconventional events. For it to tear at the way she reacted, the way she was reacting, but it never piped in. Instead she slept hard, dreamless and awoke sore, refreshed. While she brushed her teeth she saw the imprint of Alex's canines, still pink-ish and red. Her toothbrush hung from her mouth as everything faded away. She lovingly stroked it, her heart drumming loudly.

Alexandra had said she would see Olivia the next day and she did. The precinct was a bustle with their current work-load now involving a pedophilia case. These were some of the hardest to handle for everyone. Interviewing the child, comforting the parents, picturing the events - all in order to drive the investigation forward, yes, these were hard. Everything about them left you feeling soiled and unable to get clean. Olivia threw herself into it immediately; all that mattered was Timothy. This was the only real comfort she could give his parents, could give him. Alex was present at the interview, all business. Both women had no inkling to let their night life interfere with what needed to be done. It wasn't until late evening, when there was little they could do until reports were received, until the next day came- that Alex made a move.

It was a subtle gesture, so small no one in the crowded station would give it a thought, but for Olivia who became aflame. Alex was leaning back, right on the point where Stabler and Benson's desk met. Everyone was discussing what routes would be taken tomorrow, what could be done tonight. After the powwow ended Olivia raised her arms behind her head, threaded her hands, and stretched while letting out a long tension held breath. It was a comforting action she did often, one that Cabot enjoyed for alternative reasons. She gripped the desk tight, watching from her peripherals as Olivia's shirt tightened across her chest. Despite the day they were having Alex wanted to communicate her appreciation for the passion Olivia had endured. She turned her head, making it obvious that someone was watching. Olivia looked back at her- arms still out, hands still behind her head, eye's full of awareness. Alex maintained their locked acknowledgement and slowly, methodically, removed her glasses with the same exact gesture she had the night before. Except now she gently placed them, folded, on Olivia's desk. As soon as she saw a large rise in the ample bosom her gaze honed in on the hidden mark. She cherished it briefly and then came back to the now smoldering pupils. Olivia's wet lips were slightly parted, the unspoken point was made. Last night had happened and it would happen again.

Alex leaned in slightly as her hand delicately encased the glasses. Olivia waited with baited breath for a touch. Instead, Cabot straightened her posture, maintaining the shameless eye-contact until she rose to speak with Cragen. Olivia's arms ached, though they hadn't been in their position for more than a minute. She reluctantly brought them down with her head- getting back to work. A light smile brightened her features as she realized that this was the first time today she felt something other than revulsion; the first time in any of these cases that she had been brought somewhere else. She took one more moment to tenderly touch the spot that had held Alex's attention. She took one more moment to remember the pressure of her grind, the electric sting of her slaps, the ferocity of her kiss, the sound of her screamed orgasm- then got back to it. Timothy's tormentor was still out there.

Five days later Alex surprised her again after the bail hearing. The soccer-coach had been fingered by four other boys, four other innocents taken, four other victims who hopefully wouldn't be needed on the stand. There was ample evidence, all of it equally perturbing. Everyone involved was on edge- every investigative victory was sickening in context. Even when the judge ruled detainment without bail no one celebrated another win in the battle.

After giving comforting smiles and words to several of the parents, Olivia made a bee-line for the bathroom. She needed something to ground her, something to help-unable to feel clean. As she ran the tap and waited for it to reach a frigid temp Alex entered. Olivia let the water gather in her cupped hands and splashed her face, the faucet beside her started to run. She brought some water to the back of her neck and stopped. Cabot was staring at her through the mirror. Olivia was unable to appreciate the emerald green top that made her blue eyes pop, was unable to appreciate the way her skirt hugged her slender hips, unable to revel in her attention. She continued her washing efforts with new focus. Alex walked away then came back with a few paper towels in her hand, still staring. Olivia turned the water off and threw the moisture off her hands- every jerk sending out some more frustration. Her hands' movements became spastic. Alex ignored the quaking and brought a paper towel up, then gingerly wiped her cheeks.

Benson couldn't move from the touch, couldn't look at her. She refused to show in this intimate proximity how little control she had over her emotions right now. Olivia was still looking down as her forehead was affectionately patted dry. She had been leaning into the care unintentionally and lost some balance while Alex brought the towels down to her hands. She was meticulously delicate with every nook and cranny, massaging each finger lightly between her own after each wipe. While her blonde head was low in concentration Olivia had to look up, now gazing past sunny hair. After she was satisfied with her work Alex rose and met the far-off glance. She was steadfast in her view as she wrapped her arm up and around to get the droplets still on the olive neck. Once the detective's focus was brought back to the moment Alex laid her hand to sooth the knots. With the other she carefully undid the top three buttons of Olivia's shirt. She found the bite mark with that hand, faded a little more from time, and settled her fingertips over it.

"It will heal."

Olivia wanted to kiss her right then- wanted to gather the slim body into her. But Alex had already let go, had already left.

Two days later the trial ended. The parents were given recommendations for counseling. The perp. was now an inmate at the penitentiary.

Nine days and the evidence of their passionate fury was gone. Olivia was frantic that morning when she realized no trace remained on her skin. She pulled at her top, stretched her neck up and strained to see something, anything. Its' absence brought to light how desperately she wanted it back, how desperately she wanted Alex to own her so thoroughly again. What escaped her was how to make that happen.

That night she tried by going to the ADA's office after work. Alex was still there burning the midnight oil.

"Yes, Olivia?"

She didn't even look up from her papers, giving them all her attention, giving Olivia a rise of jealousy.

_I'm jealous of pulped trees._

Olivia started to speak but had forgotten what she was going to say.

"I just. . . I. . ."

Alex still didn't look up. Olivia took a couple of steps closer.

"I wanted. . . I wanted to. . . "- Dam it! Why was this so awkward? Why was it so hard?

Alex released an annoyed sigh and burrowed a harsh stare through the detective.

"I have a lot to get done. What do you want?"

The masked sharp tone startled Olivia; it wasn't the one needed to scratch this itch. After a time she recovered.

"I wanted to say congratulations on the case. I never officially congratulated you and I wanted to congratulate you."

This wasn't her. This wasn't how she talked. This wasn't what she craved.

"Thank you. Congratulations are in order for you as well."

Alex went back to her papers, blatantly ignoring the gawky tension in the room.

"Lock up when you leave. I don't want to be interrupted."

Olivia didn't want to leave, but she couldn't figure out how to stay. This wouldn't lead to why she came. She stalled a little longer then out of viable options, outside of teenage antics, she headed out. Locking up before she shut the door.

As soon as she left Alex broke free from the desk and thrust back into her chair. She had been pining for the detective all week. Due to the case they were involved in she had kept her affections limited and small; all the while yearning even more as she watched Olivia's compassionate drive throughout the investigation and trial. Watching her use nausea, hatred, and sorrow as a resource instead of letting them overwhelm was enthralling. It gave Alex's own feelings about the case an oasis to recoup in. She knew what she desired to do next for this marvelous goddess. Had dreamed of it ever since she saw construction was going on in the east wing of her office building. But the timid creature that came in tonight wouldn't be ready; wouldn't be able to appreciate the stark exploits. Olivia needed to ask better than that to set this in motion and Alex hoped mightily that she would.

Another clash echoed through the precinct as Olivia drummed through the papers. She noted with anticipation how well this tactic was working. Alex had inelegantly stammered while talking to the chief at his door. She hadn't looked Olivia's way once during her exuberant stapling, unlike practically everyone else.

_WHACK!_

This time Alex serpentined her spine slightly, as if hiding a prick.

_WHACK!_

Ignoring while watching, Olivia was enjoying every minute of this. Driving pleasure through with metronome punches of such a simple little office tool. The mundane had become fore-play, evident by how wet she was. And by Alex's rising right leg skimming her left calf, a stapler was making her wet as well.

_WHACK!_

"Okay, seriously Olivia you have to stop." Elliot was grabbing his temples.

_WHACK!_

"What?" She had several reports ready to go.

_WHACK!_

In the morning she intentionally used Alexandra every time she could at the courthouse. "Yes, Alexandra- How are you today Alexandra- Here's your briefcase Alexandra- Let me get that Alexandra" Elliot had raised his eye-brows once or twice at the teacher's pet she was being and at the constant formal use of Cabot's name.

_WHACK!_

But she couldn't stop. Ten days. It had been ten days. And after her last bumbled performance she hatched a new plan overnight, giddy to go to work and gauge the accuracy of her theory. Using what Olivia now assumed was a pet name had caused the ADA to blush a couple of times; practically serving her while saying it caused the lawyer's pupils to dilate- that icy blue flame flashing behind them.

_WHACK!_

Elliot snatched the stapler from her desk.

"Enough! Jesus!"

He sat back down and threw it in his drawer with a hearty slam. Alex disappointingly slumped her shoulders in response as she feigned attention to Cragen's point. Olivia simply opened her drawer, pulled out a new one and without missing a beat. . .

_WHACK!_

Elliot started to yell something else but Olivia didn't notice. She was too busy reveling in the carnal driven stare Alex was giving her. Her own stare back was a challenge as she conclusively. . .

_WHACK!_

Ten days was more than enough.


	5. The Construction Site

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug* S/M is present. It's a steamy number more erotica than romance. Enjoy!

**Quickie**: Farther down the rabbit hole they go.

* * *

**Part 5: The Construction Site**

"_Tonight _

_Nine o'clock _

_#408 _

_East Administrative Wing_

_Alexandra"_

That was the folded note Olivia found on her stapler at 8:15 pm, along with two newly made keys. She had gone out briefly for a late night snack, letting work take her past quitting time, no intention of heading home.

_Even her handwriting is delicate._

Olivia felt stimulating butterflies. There was construction going on the fourth floor of that wing, had been for the last couple of weeks. It was an interesting request, not one she had expected, but then- what in any of this had she expected? And why pretend this was a request? The majority of her day had been staged for this- the summons to join Alexandra privately.

Detective Benson hesitantly un-locked the door and looked into the darkened room. The walk to room 408 went from well lit corridors occasionally punctuated with people and clean stairs- to shredded walls, eerie emptiness and flickering anemic lights. She had used the other key once already, to get into this hallway, and now with a second lock she was here. New York neon spilled through dusty windows, casting colorful muted shadows across abandoned projects. The infrastructure of inner partitions was stripped away to skeletal beams; tools indiscriminately littered the scene as if dropped mid-action at quitting time. Plastic sheets covered random tables with fine layers of sandy soot upon them. The scent of carved wood and oil finish was distinct and almost cathartic. She was tempted to call out for Alexandra but the silence combined with the effervescent setting was too wonderful to taint.

She walked quietly and slowly as she absorbed her surroundings. A large round column with small yellowing square tiles sat in the center of the room and the slight glow made it almost shine. Each tile's corner had raised lines that led to its' center; the dividing triangles refracting light in enchanting patterns. Olivia had to reach out and touch them, transfixed by the luminous beauty. She didn't hear the door open, didn't register when it locked, wasn't aware of an intrusion. Cabot held off, enjoying Olivia's enjoyment. This place was chosen because of its' unconventional charm, among other things. One of those being the column that held her attention so thoroughly.

Alex let her heavy purse fall to the floor, announcing a presence. The start it gave pleased her considerably but she was careful not to let it show. Olivia almost began to tell Alex how wonderful the aesthetics were, how grateful she was to be brought here, but before the detective could open her mouth Alexandra gave the order.

"Press your back against the tile."

There it was again, the demanding low voice that Olivia had been conjuring through her ears every night. Her body instantly reacted- heart racing, skin tingling. She wanted to obey immediately but was reluctant for Alexandra to move. In here she was almost opaque, the dark grey of her top creating a subtle yellow hue upon her skin. Her hair was still up in a low tightly coiled bun. Even the thick black frame of her glasses was dulled by the surroundings. She looked as if she was an architectural detail carefully chosen for this room. She looked sternly surreal. She looked as if she was still waiting, patience waning.

Olivia didn't let the vision from her sight and carefully backed into the column. She pressed hard against it, feeling the bumps of the tile press into her, following the order exactly. The sensation brought her back to the moment. She wanted to be fully present. Cabot stayed where she was, keeping her cultivated posture high, giving Olivia her unspoken wish for ogling time- taking some for herself as well.

"Wrap your arms around it."

Alexandra still hadn't moved but the rich sing-song bass of her voice compelled Olivia too. Cabot relished her instant compliance, arms stretching back without hesitation. It created a euphoric feeling - power being given to her. She would cherish this gift and use it.

_First thing first._ She methodically removed her glasses, then placed them on the table beside her.

Her heels rasped clicks on the dirty floor as she closed in, hands clasped loosely on the small of her back. She ended when their noses were almost touching, testing Olivia's boundaries. When only the detective's heavy panting increased, she looked down- addressed the pushed out rising and falling chest, then brought her eyes back into flaming black vessels.

"Good."

The temperature rose then dropped as Alex walked around Benson to the back. Its' girth was too wide for her fingers to meet by a good two feet. Alexandra bent down and grabbed the thick rope she had placed there earlier while Olivia debated if it was okay to turn her head. She was curious as to what the ADA was doing when she suddenly felt scratchy fibers rubbing against her left wrist.

"This is one of your favorite enticements is it not- thrusting your chest out at me?"

Her words haunted the space as she merely grazed skin with old rope. Giving a brief moment of reflection about what was going to happen next. Then in full tilt she deftly tied a French bowline knot around each wrist, brought the two rope ends together in a Slipping reef and swiftly pushed down, tightening the pull on Olivia's arms. Benson went from feeling restrained pressure to a jettisoning strain in her sockets; the once mesmerizing tiles now imprinting their pattern into her.

She gulped a moan, fear timidly presenting itself alongside the arousal.

"Al-"

Fingers rested on her lips before she could use the lawyer's informal, everyday name. A pleading rested behind the blue eyes. Asking Olivia to take a moment and reconsider. The touch soothed her impulse to use apprehension as a reason to stop.

"Was there something you wanted to say?"

Her question was assured, sensual.

"No Alexandra"

Olivia's response was breathy, wanting.

Alex grabbed the captives blouse on either side of its' center.

"You begged me all day-"

Her rigid voice husked just above a whisper as she tore it off with two forceful tugs. Olivia realizing she underestimated the beautiful blonde's strength as buttons went flying. Alexandra pulled a steel comb from her hair, one thick strand escaping with it. She bunched Olivia's thin tank with the other fist.

"-begged me to give you attention!"

The exclamation came as she used the sharp steel to slice cloth and rip it apart. Olivia's squeaked exclamation came from thrilling surprise- the pillowy top of her pushed breasts jiggling above her white bra. Alexandra kept her distance and forcibly removed the annoying belt on Benson's pants.

"You begged!"

A lascivious reminder of why they were here. She was charging Olivia up with her vigor, amping desire through her with that authoritative voice. Olivia's deepening breaths pushed wetness through her as Cabot roughly pushed down her underwear with her pants- she accompanied them down, all the way to perfectly portioned ankles. She looked up while on her knees at the downcast electric eyes. As she gazed up and peeled the bunch from Olivia's legs, taking her shoes with-

"So now I'm giving you what you asked for-"

She raised the jeans up with one arm and dropped them on the floor.

"-attention."

Olivia felt goose bumps as the cold air rushed in on her bare skin. She was a mess on top and fully exposed on the bottom. The only heat was what radiated from her sex- until Alex purred hot breaths onto her inner thigh.

"Do you like this pet-"

Her canary soft hair was tickeling the other thigh as she continued to exhale the steaming sentence.

"-this attention?"

Olivia's shoulder's felt a pressured strain as her knees became weak from the feeling of a smooth hand faintly running the back length of her leg. She couldn't look at the tantalizing figure kneeling anymore. Her head rolled back into the column, eye's shut, blocking anything out but the prickling sensations streaming through individual nerves.

"Yes" was her faint response.

"Yes what?"

Alexandra was inhaling her sex's scent. Olivia could feel the cool intake and warm release of each draw. She felt something slithering around her ankles but the teasing attention being lavished on her center, her desire's leading question, the nose that now lightly nuzzled her pubic hairs, the tongue she knew was out, could feel it was so close, almost touching- these conquered all.

"Yes Alexandra."

Without warning the affectionate play ended and as Olivia's eyes opened her legs were pulled apart and back. She realized what was happening when she looked down and in Alex's absence saw rope knotted around her ankles; Alexandra tightening it just enough to allow Olivia footing on the floor. This caused her joints to once again strain, caused her buttock and back to once again push into the pointed tiles. Olivia seethed indignation, she had never been unremittingly tied up, never been restrained willingly before. She disobediently pulled- testing the strength as she released a long grunted roar.

Alexandra came around and watched almost smiling. These were such light bindings and these antics were mere ruffled dramatics. She only let Olivia try once before responding with two back handed slaps. These were stronger than the ones in the past- there were no intrusively tight quarters repressing their force. The familiar yet zestier sting immediately caused an animated croon.

"Tsk. Tsk."

Alexandra pushed her cheeks together and forced the captive to look at her.

"Your testing is insulting.

Now-"

She lightly patted a cheek as she released the squeeze.

"-what did you learn?"

Olivia was reluctant to answer. She was tied up and exposed, aroused and denied, and being talked to as some sort of pet. She was a pet. Alexandra had called her that. She didn't really know this women, didn't know much outside of their work together. Cum dripped out from her lower lips. That didn't appear to matter. She was Alexandra's pet.

"I can't escape Alexandra."

Her body wanted it, she had wanted it- wanted to be so thoroughly owned by the temptress in front of her.

"And do you want to . . . escape?"

The last question wasn't fully presented as a dominate coercing a played response. It held sincerity. Alex was asking her one more time if she should continue- if she _could_ continue. If this was going to be too much for her then how much farther could they go? Olivia felt a single finger lightly trail her sternum, down her abdomen, following the ridge of her pelvic bone. Her breathing came in spurts; wherever the finger tickled her muscles tremored one by one and her sex tremored with them. Her bodies' response helped solidify the answer. Alex preternaturally knew what Olivia itched for, what she could handle. She wanted to emphatically serve her, gratify her with unknown wines, please her with such drunken intensity that she'd come back again and again, begging. And Olivia desperately wanted a reason to beg.

"No Alexandra."

Cabot brought one more pointed comb from her head and swayed the fully fallen hair back into perfect place. She pulled the center of Olivia's bra with the once traveling finger, brought the sharp steel edge to it and sliced.

"Good." She would not ask again.

Olivia's breasts burst out and her nipples hardened instantly in the cold. Alexandra's eyes popped with them as she rumbled through awe-

"Good."

She couldn't hear the whimpering while her nail's tip drew around the shaking mounds- appreciating the athletic pectoral's incline into firm ample breasts. Alex was adrift in the red streak curving around ones' underside, carving into its' edges, tracing lines around its' dark areola. Her mouth watered at the erect nub. As she brought her head down to tease and suck she almost lost control, almost. Catching her weakness mid air instead she flicked it with the faintest touch of pointed tongue- Olivia's whimper now loud and clear.

Alexandra stiffened her hand as she leaned back in teasing observation. At first she batted at it playfully, none too lightly, with quick non-committal taps to the side- Olivia's tight soprano responses obviously indicating sensitive breasts. So she did the same to the other. She delighted in the small waves it created but her countenance remained unattached, her pleasure a stony mask purposefully difficult to read. Olivia could orgasm with just this, that was apparent, but why settle? These powder kegs needed to be desensitized. Alexandra took the nipple tight in her fingers and recklessly tugged up. She quickly released high and as Olivia released a thrilled yelp slapped the side hard. Olivia's cries couldn't keep up with the prompt follow of two smacks and could barely come out when the other breast was given the same treatment without missing a beat. With each chop she jerked back into the column, was pricked by the points, and immediately thrust back.

"Remember this sound?"

Alexandra whacked again. Olivia's body sputtered again.

"It's a little higher-"

WHACK!

"-but about the same."

WHACK!

The stick of the tiles forced her forward with each slap and her sockets felt a pulled twinge of pain with each retreat. Olivia wasn't sure how long this see-saw could go on when Alexandra finished it for her by roughly palming both breasts while pushing her into the tips. She kneaded them with hard regular rolls heavily unleashing airy growls. The pressure was two-fold; rigorous in the front and biting in the back. A crawling confusion wormed through her being, it was euphoric. Alexandra switched back to tight tweaks, a couple of slaps- now jolting Olivia back. Then, her hot mouth widely closed down- Alexandra's entire upper body devoted to the new play. Up to this point Olivia's nipples had felt dry, almost chapped, but now as a tongue laid long strokes into one it felt quenched, salved. The oral massages made her clit throb, jealous of the wet attention. Without lessening her gape Alexandra started to accent the brushes with little flicks and sucks -bringing her closer, closer-

Cabot moved off reluctantly and pulled back three steps.

"You're too loud."

Olivia hadn't been aware of her ringing moans, her throat felt raspy and dry as she finally breathed. Yes, she had been loud. She was ready to apologize but Alexandra was now lifting her skirt to her waist. The savvy mistress kept her silent with rapt attention as she slowly lowered her thick black lace thong. She easily stepped each heel out and gave little time for a peek of her waxed plump sex before smoothing her skirt back into place. She crumpled it in her hands, careful not to wipe away any evidence of how turned on she was, then delicately ran the back of her fingers down Olivia's cheek.

"Open."

Her tone, however, was not delicate. Olivia's mouth snapped open in a 'yes Alexandra' and the intimate apparel was pushed inside- the lace a feathery gag filling the space. Just as Olivia was enjoying the first inhalation she heard a loud hum coming from Cabot's purse. Alex walked over to it and pulled out a lit cell-phone vibrating with a call. She answered.

"Hello Hannah, it's late."

Her tone was annoyed as she walked back over to Olivia.

"I signed them all today and put them in your in box."

While she spoke with her paralegal two fingers pinched Olivia's wet nipple.

"Which one wasn't there?"

She was looking to the side, her fingers rolling it tightly between them, pulling, and then twirling it between her knuckles.

"No, no don't worry. I understand. . . "

Olivia craved more attention but even this little touch was stimulating. Here she was, basically naked, tied to a column, being treated as an after-thought to a cell phone and she didn't care- she just wanted. As Alexandra flicked the nipple a couple of times a whine pitched through the lacey barricade. It was answered with an admonishing stare.

"I'll stop by now so it can be sent with the ten o' clock carrier."

Alex slapped the breast as she snapped her phone shut.

_What?!_

Her brown eyes were begging Alexandra to say it was a ruse. How could she leave her now? How could she leave this unfinished?

"Don't worry lovely, I'll be right back."

Alex once again ran the back of her fingers delicately down Olivia's cheek as the detective huffed through the lace. She was going to leave her here- restrained, gagged, naked, breasts red and raw, cum dripping down. She'd be unable to call for help- even if she could bumble through an awkward lying explanation of why she was in this predicament in the first place. Alex turned away and grabbed her purse then stopped briefly-

"Remain _exactly_ as you are."

_As if I have a choice._ Olivia grunted.

"I suggest you take this time to focus on the fact that my underwear is in your mouth-"

Olivia's complaining stopped.

"-it is very wet-"

Arousal curled through her.

"-and I have a walk a head of me."

Alex was at the door, but before she left she added-

"I know my focus will be with my intimate apparel."

Alex locked the door and Olivia comforted herself with the recognition that she too had a key and neither of them should. The danger of discovery was faint, but it was there. She could hear the receding clicks of the attorney's heels, an auditory fetish of hers, and began to focus on a new one- Alexandra's bare wet cunt.


	6. The Construction Site Continues

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug* S/M is present. It's a steamy number more erotica than romance.

* * *

**Part 6: The Construction Site Continues**

All of her being was with the slick shifts of Alexandra's pussy. She was out of her body, in the hall way, following the petite petals' every movement. Floating in front, the camera honed in on the star of these presumptions- watching the sway of her hips drench the fleshy flower. Alexandra was at the stairs now. A low "oh" hit with the anticipation. Each small dance of a knee would release cum down her thigh. Each moment before her heel hit would be greeted by a cool rush of air- air that was colder wherever arousal painted her creamy skin. Each imagined eloquent step down caused more wetness to push out from the bound narrator. It would drip down her thigh, but the ties that forced her legs apart only allowed it to drip onto the floor.

Olivia moaned for what must have been the third time since Alexandra had left. Her body caved in on itself, her thighs begging to be rubbed together but instead the action caused her shoulders to ache and points to scratch deep lines into the roundest part of her rear- the urged for contact an impossibility. She snapped to attention, the out-of-body experience snapping back into 408.

Her exposed chest bounced heavily as she panted with need. No-one was present, fulfillment seemed so far away. She groaned with urge. The possession of privation took her as she rocked hard into the column she was so intimately bound to. Her passionate dissent subsided slightly with the pierces. She opened her eyes and again became aware of her surroundings. Their fettering focus shifted to the covered table a few feet in front of her. Folded neatly among the worker's chaos were Alexandra's forgotten frames- the almost non-existent light some-how reflecting off the glass.

Seeing the token inspired confidence. Olivia shut her eyes tight and watched her mistress with new determination: Alexandra talking to someone as if nothing was happening, Alexandra opening a door cautiously, Alexandra avoiding a seat at all costs. As Alexandra was bending down to pick up her purse Olivia's want became zealous. The want wasn't about her returning anymore, it was fixated on lapping up the sexual honey glossing the inside of porcelain thighs. The want was about following the nectar up with her tongue until tapping the soft source. This was only their second time together. Olivia had not pleasured her yet, hadn't tasted her yet- wasn't even sure Alexandra wanted it yet. This insight caused another moan, a small broody moan. The lace inside her mouth twiddled with the tone.

_"-It is very wet-"_echoed through her mind. She was bound, yes. Alexandra wasn't here, yes. But lingerie lingered close enough to sample. Olivia inhaled deeply, focusing on the subtle aromas rising through her sinuses. She smelled the botanic essence of Earl Grey tea combined with a pungent hint of over ripe fruit. It was wonderful- but it was only a hint, the floral feminine perfume lording over what she was really interested in. A hap hazard plan was hatched to finagle the thick thong's center in a place where she could lick. Olivia puffed air into her cheeks and massaged the lace forward using the roof of her mouth for leverage. It tickled too much to handle. She raised the back of her tongue for the immediate relief of a good scratch. The intimate apparel almost spilled out as she itched, her teeth catching before it fully left. Miraculously the part that remained inside was the only part she cared about. The front of her tongue touched cum and Olivia almost rejoiced. As she rolled it through her center taste buds she accidentally released her shaky grip.

_"Remain exactly as you are"_ chimed in warning as the panties fell.

_"_Shit_"-_well cared for lace hit the dirty floor.

Her eyes were fixed front on nothing. If anyone had looked close enough they would have seen a fog looming thick under the sky blue. Cabot wasn't in these halls- she was with her expectant detainee. Her devotion creating a meditative trance, legs moving forward without her. She was floating through space, the image of beautiful Olivia restrained among the beauty of 408 never waning. Alexandra's engorged bare lips were now cold. It made her think of the cold hardening Olivia's nipples right now - the tips hard as dark diamonds. Another heat waved in her center. Just like the heat her lingerie was privy too in Olivia's delectable mouth. Her focus was on Olivia's sensations, not her own- though the walk down the stairwell proved too tempting for her rigid ideal. She had to stop for a moment, two steps from the bottom, and regain control over a very wound-up clit.

Hannah was in her tiny room called an office, paper ready to be signed. She had chosen this undergraduate as an intern/paralegal because she was detail driven and by the book squeaky clean. Hannah's reports were thorough and she never got a latte order incorrect. She would never forge a signature- squeaky clean.

"Sorry I had to bother you so late. You never forget to sign. I must have slipped somewhere."

Hannah also needed a stronger back bone if she was interested in a future career here. It was true, Cabot had never missed crossing a 't' or dotting an 'i', she still hadn't. This slight was intentional. Using a well timed interruption as an excuse to keep Olivia stored away- building the tension, increasing the expectation, and hopefully chipping away at some future misgivings.

"No need to apologize. It was my error."

"Oh, and here are the items you asked me to get. I had to call several stores before finding that exact shirt."

She handed Alexandra a wrapped paper package which she laid into her large purse, carefully bending down, carefully appearing as if bending down was easy.

"Thank you. Can you point where I need to sign? I left my reading glasses."

"Where did you forget them? Do you want me to retrieve them?"

Cabot _never_ forgot essential accessories.

"Where do I sign?"

She smiled as she spoke, her intern believing it a soothing gesture for her benefit. She smiled back.

"Here and here."

Signatures done at 9:45- just enough time to get the papers out with the last carrier. Hannah offered her chair, the most comfortable one in the tiny room, trying to prolong the visit.

"Do you want to discuss the Pawler prep for tomorrow?"

"No!"

Cabot did not intend to so vehemently deny the gesture. She immediately relaxed her stance and sweetened her tone.

"No, thank you Hannah- I need to get back."

"Alright, see you tomorrow."

"Uh-huh-"

As Alexandra swiftly left the room Hannah tried to recall the last time her idol had used such common vernacular. She couldn't think of a one.

The walk back was fast paced and rigid- the hard rhythm shaking her folds, the strike of her heels quivering up her legs, vibrating a very hard pearl. A tightly suppressed smirk punctuated her fiercely fixed gaze; Alexandra looked ready to tear into anyone who got in her way. Walking up the stairs galvanized her system. Each upward step rubbed her lips together then thrust them upon her erect bundle of nerves. She was beyond ready to go as she unlocked the first door, a bat out of hell by the second. Slamming the door open was as much for Olivia's benefit as her own.

Alexandra was expecting to see a compliant Benson bound and gagged, exactly as she left her. But there was one thing off. More pleased than disappointed, she shut the door excruciatingly slow, took her time before locking, and stayed there- only giving Olivia a back to stare at. Her shoulder's raised with a long sigh- a gesture to help quell her over-excited libido, her disobedient culprit fearing it inferred disapproval. The panic stricken countenance was unable to read anything in her harbinger's eyes as she tarred forward. Alexandra stopped, once again in the same spot, noses almost touching.

"I was away for fifteen minutes-"

The stare down ended as she bent her head- hair tickling Olivia's exposure as she retrieved the soiled undergarment. She lifted it with one finger, admitting the evidence for consideration; her lover's bare body quivering from cold and blonde strands.

"-impatience was never a trait I associated with you before."

Her callous tone and demeaning comment landed harshly on Olivia's ego. She had been more than patient since all this started- submissively patient. This chiding Cabot had changed everything. The strong willed woman's past defiance was now intentional- not accidental. Future indiscretions were inevitable. As Alex left to place her panties on the table Olivia spoke out of turn.

"Well, since there was no action going on here I decided to find my own amusement."

Her cocky delivery slapped Alexandra's body about face. The restrained Benson epitomized arrogance and charm even while exhibited so thoroughly. Cabot loved it. Her light pink tongue slowly trailed her upper lip, she drew her teeth into its' bottom; Olivia recalled an inspiring day in court as the pearly whites reluctantly let go of their red captive.

"Action?"

She also recalled that look- Alexandra had found a tasty morsel, one she would painfully devour, and Olivia would love it.

The smoldering temptress came back, beckoned by her lover's play, sparking the air between them, warming the neglected skin. She raised her hand. Olivia refused to flinch at what she believed to be a coming smack. Instead it rested on her right shoulder as Alexandra positioned her legs on either side of the buff umber thigh- her skirt bunching as she lowered a soaking sex just enough to tempt.

"Tense your muscle."

Although her body vehemently wanted to respond Alexandra's demand hung unfulfilled. Olivia could feel the humid heat but she could also feel the delay causing Cabot's cum to drip down once, twice on her skin. She didn't need to say it, her refusal an easy tell for the now glaring eyes.

"Tense your muscle!"

Olivia's own sex twitched at the beloved sharp tone, but she still wouldn't budge. The insubordination was obviously a drug rapidly running through Alexandra's boiling blood, she wanted to push the lawyer's buttons hard- sweet payback. Her mischievous antics were met with two clawed hands drilling deep into her sides, the sudden keen contact jarring her entire body, contracting her thigh.

"Tense your muscle!"

She immediately went limp. Alexandra immediately drilled deep again, then again, then again. Each time the demand was sharply reiterated- each time Olivia willed her body back from obedience. Her pussy had yet to come fully down and the opposition just added to her frenzy. She started to smack Olivia's hips, smack her breasts, pinch any giving skin, tweak and twist for added emphasis- every one of them given in perfect time one after the other, every one of them gradually becoming more harsh. With every one she verbalized her order, with every one she charged over Olivia's stimulated yelps- her assault only ever working for an instant. Provoked to a new line of action Alexandra thrust her entire weight forward while snarling out her command.

"Tense it!"

Wide needles punctured into Olivia's back as she crashed into the column. Her entire body became rigid in an instant as she squealed with mixed delight- Alexandra taking the opportunity to crash her center down upon the powerful thigh. Olivia started to moan when the wetness launched down its' length but she quickly regained will power- pulled back her leg into the ever present points and turned the moan into a resounding-

"No!"

Alexandra would have to do better than teasing compliance out of her. The look her declaration was met with was, stunning. Through her disheveled hair vamped lust, intrigued respect, and insatiable drive swarmed revealingly within her eyes. It was the first time Olivia had really been able to read them. The addictive azure also told another tale- one that ended with her naughty denial demolished, her puckish challenge obliterated by the sheer sexual prowess that was Alexandra Cabot.

"No?"

She gracefully smoothed the golden mess back into place then rested her hands gently on Olivia's shoulders. Using her body for leverage Alexandra slowly slid her cunt down the still not tensed thigh. When it was a little out of reach she lifted her sex, lightly trailed the lips back up, then slowly slid down again- coating her ride more and more each time. Olivia's leg started to raise up without consent, but she still didn't tense her thigh. Even as she felt the distinct pebble like line of Alexandra's clit, even as Alexandra shuddered, she didn't tense her thigh. But her lustily labored breathing implored for Cabot to continue.

One hand rose off its' perch, feigned attention to her breasts, and glided down her body. It rose just before her pelvis and was brought low beneath her splayed sex. Still continuing her up and down coast, Alexandra formed four fingers into a cone keeping her thumb flexed far away. She took the middle finger's slightly higher tip and left it just beneath Olivia's cunt, causing her captive to quiver, then stopped her raunchy excursion.

"And to whom is that 'no' addressed?"

Olivia was torn as to whether she should answer. Her womanhood burned from all the unexpected attention and the new promise of more. If she said "Alexandra" it could be connected to her "no" and the hand might be removed. If she didn't answer Alexandra might punish her by removing the hand. Cabot enjoyed the visible internal struggle. The finger fiddled with her lips, liquid arousal greeting the tremolo. Olivia cursed the skill full tease.

"Alexandra-"

She whined.

"Please Alexandra."

She could no longer pine, she needed this. Their second time together and she was begging.

Alexandra responded by pushing only the middle finger's tip up, just inside her. Olivia responded with an unsatisfied gasp.

"Take it. Show me you want it."

Her words were just above a whisper, diction crystal clear. Begging wasn't fully rewarded- it was too docile a response. Olivia eased her hips down and forward, pulling on her restraints, stopping mid way down the firm fingers, then pushed up. She didn't get near deep enough for full gratification but the widening length proved intense. Alexandra watched the timid grinding, disappointed. She stroked the back of Olivia's neck and pulled her lips closer to her ear.

"Come on detective. You can do better than that."

The next few dips went down a little further, the tightening sensation searing her sex. Alexandra started to once again rub her cunt up and down Olivia's thigh.

"Take it."

Olivia groaned with frustration, she _wanted_ to take it all. It hurt a little more with each attempt but she wanted more- _needed_ more. She had waited so long today, endured so much to this point, she needed to feel release already. The feeling of Alexandra riding her thigh boosted her, the vocals escaping her own lips as she rode the hand egged her on, and the hushed annunciation from her mistress encouraged her.

"You can do better."

With a loud moan she took the make-shift cone in its' entirety. Her wayward hole felt complete as her clit hit the nook in Alexandra's hand- this added stimulation only reached by accepting the entire top, forcing her to take it all in for premium satisfaction.

"Good."

Alexandra purred- still grinding as Olivia pulled up.

In order to achieve this perfect penetration her tight entryway had to expand in acceptance of the almost too wide base every time. The contours clutched with all their might, fearing the fingers would fall before fully filling her, while her clit screamed to be smashed on the stretched out skin of Alexandra's hand- demanding the added attention. But once this happened, her indecisive pleasure portal ordered that the hips pull back, refusing to release this squeeze of its' own accord. Every inner tissue roughly rubbing what it could until the digits became too narrow for contact. And then it would all start again- her pace quickening. Olivia jammed Alexandra into her again and again; slicing her skin on porcelain points, pulling pressure around her joints, tensing her thigh taught as timber. Alexandra timed her own pleasure with it- raising her cunt with each release only to ram it down with each contraction. Olivia's thigh wonderfully slick- covered in her own juices. Alexandra's hand wonderfully engorged- covered in lewd lather, white-hot wetness streaming down her wrist.

Grasping for leverage was out of the question, her hands unwilling to clasp the knifelike tile, forcing her upper back and ass to reinforce the pumps. She was being too loud again. Alexandra clobbered the noise, pressing her palm hard across kissable lips. Each of her grunts, moans, and groans were muted- constricted blasts of air filling her mouth then rushing out flared nostrils. She was a stampeding bull. Alexandra took each bucking for her own pleasure, the rodeo queen. This time the build didn't rise high, it was guttural, grounded, and low. It was rumbling through her center, a forewarning of the earthquake to come. Olivia wanted it to dismantle her. She humped the hand enthusiastically; the tension from her binds creating new fault lines throughout her body, the cutting behind her circulating like magma to her core. Her mistress, her master, was barely visible through the thick haze of power- still thrilling Olivia's entirety with her shameless primordial grinds. Sheer willpower allowed Alexandra to maintain her force- to maintain the physical strength necessary to allow Olivia this build. She was controlling the earth and heaving with the weighted effort. Only when her muscles showed signs of struggle did she gasp-

"Now."

She was Gaia, demanding that mountains move. The tectonic plates shifted promptly- Olivia's orgasm hitting a ten point 'o' on her inner Richter scale. Just as she was crumbling Alexandra took over and thrusted her fingers in deep, Olivia's scream muffled through loudly. She thrusted harshly two more times. Watching her lover writhe, thoroughly split apart while contained, finally brought about her own release. Alexandra curved her spine and spasmed silently, her body unable to provide enough energy to vocalize the euphoria.

Her hand spilled out from the pulsing fire and hung loosely, the other clumsily falling sideways from the open mouth. They both needed to just breathe, to rest. Olivia's restraints were now helping keep her up and her body was what kept Alexandra from collapsing on the floor. A siren wailed in the distance then came closer as a neon sign started to flicker- sparkling red and blue beams randomly lighted the room. Silence came back to 408 gradually, oxygen finally reached sore muscles, and the cold crept back upon the two leaning women.

Alexandra rolled her head off the shoulder and tenderly kissed the down-turned cheek, the detective's head no longer hung so low. She eased off the thigh and pulled back, her desire's body missed the contact immediately. While fully pulling away she streaked her cum covered hand across the toned abdomen- Olivia's stomach was still able to tense, she could be let go. Her walk was shaky as she took the first step but then her heels clicked assuredly as she reached the slipping reef knot in the back. Cabot pulled up on the two exposed ends, Olivia's body fell from the column, ankles still bound; her hands landed flatly on the ground bringing her knees with, putting her on all fours. The tension on her ankles was released but she was too tired to move, too exhausted to fall further. Staying in her position as if told too.

The heels continued to tick, unwatched but not unnoticed, as they traveled the room. The bewitching sound ended as Alexandra went down to her knees beside Benson. She pushed the torn shirt up, exposing Olivia's back and analyzed the red streaks. None of them were deeper than a paper-cut, except for one long line on her well-built rear. A soothing cool gelatin was gingerly led around the wounds on a moist cloth, the aloe-vera mixture a home-made remedy for cleansing. It stung briefly with contact then brought relief. Once every cut had been accounted for Alex took a quick look at where Olivia had been restrained. The rope around her wrists had intentionally been old and thick, there was no difficult-to-explain bruising- but the one around her ankles had been new nylon. Cabot traveled her fingers tenderly around the yellowish hue surrounding purple on the olive skin. Content with her work she stood and grabbed the brown package in her purse, satisfaction energizing her because Olivia still had no will to move. She went down on her knees once more, this time directly in front of the groveling figure. She tucked her hand softly under Olivia's chin and brought her head up.

"For you."

A gentle lingering kiss was delicately placed on her lips as Olivia heard the gift pushed by her flattened hands. It didn't linger as long as she would have liked- Alexandra now moving to stand up. She once again swiftly, yet without hurry, straightened out her attire and smoothed her hair. She once again had recovered faster than her concubine and was grabbing her purse before going towards the door. Olivia held her head high, mustering whatever strength she currently had, watching in rapt awe as Alexandra once again leaned into the frame and looked over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow Benson."

Cabot tilted her head back to the hallway.

"Lock up when you leave."

Her shirt was shredded to pieces, her skin was marked with slices, her bottom was bare and pushed out from being on all fours on this very grubby floor, their cum covered her- but all she cared about, all she focused on was the present left beside her as Alexandra closed the door.


	7. The Elevator

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug* It's a steamy number more erotica than romance.

**Quickie: **Yay for intense elevator rides!

* * *

**Part 7: The Elevator**

"The contractor keeps telling me he needs two more weeks. I keep telling him I need it done two weeks ago."

The uniformed officer beside the well groomed suit shook his head in empathy.

"Never get work done on your house. We've been eating in the living room for almost a month now."

Their conversation had started in the lobby of the precinct and continued into the crowded elevator. Wednesday morning's were a hump day even in the non-stop action-packed house of the city's men in blue. Administrative paper-work was at its' peak, communication between departments ever reliant on the unsung heroes who stared at a screen day after day. For those who weren't a mere clerk, desk duty was a dirty word- that paper that had to be turned in on time, a punishment for losing control out in the field, or a sympathetic gesture given by a commander even though it was never appreciated. None the less it remained a necessary annoyance. Everyone else had their eyes front, packed as tight as the subway car they took in, waiting for their floor. Elevator rides were almost always awkward- only the two men up front seemed at ease with their continued small talk. Well, they and the gorgeous nearly new ADA in the very back who was almost pressed against the corner. She would be directly in it except for that was where Detective Olivia Benson was standing.

"Who recommended that guy to you?"

The limited space between them hummed. Alex was looking forward with all the rest but she was standing so close, so near. Olivia's heart-beat pounded rapidly, her markings started to sear from the rush of circulating blood. Floor two and the door opened. A few rolled their eyes, two flights of stairs was nothing- why take this old slow elevator? The one person who exited was taking everyone's time for granted, precious seconds they could never get back- precious seconds Olivia wanted to last.

"See that's the problem. Never hire another man's cousin. If he's pushing to get a relative work there's gotta be a problem with that relative."

It was a heady feeling, one that spun sense-memory into a tight dense mass, caused a crushing gravity to pull upon her chest; a black-hole so intense Olivia wasn't aware of how deeply it distorted her breathing, until singularity was reached. Alexandra was touching her, that skillful hand was palming her. The thumb rested on the largest cut across her rear and the long fingers laid into the downward curve – her wonderful middle finger practically between the detective's legs. Floor three and the door opened, this time two exited. Everyone else shifted into the opening space.

"Marcus is a great mechanic! I recommend my brother any chance I get."

"Brother's are usually okay, it's the cousin's you need to watch out for."

Alex was only touching this one part of her, so why did it feel like her entire body was being embraced? The palm radiated, spread to all the little cuts, the little nicks- she may as well have been pressing her body into Olivia's back. She was taking her in close, wrapping her arms around front and pulling her in. Their entire length combined with this small touch. To anyone else in the elevator it would have appeared the lawyer was grabbing an ass.

Floor four and the door opened, it was emptying out.

"How 'bout you bring your family to my place for dinner tonight? I'll call my wife and get the okay-"

Olivia waited as long as she could, the hand kept its' place until she had to exit- the last one to leave. She looked back when she realized Alex had not come. The ADA gave a small smile, hit the lobby button, and leaned into the wall while casually crossing her ankles. Olivia gave a small appreciative smile back as the almost empty elevator's door closed- that ride had been just for her.

Last night she remained in the near darkness on all fours long after Alexandra had left. She couldn't explain why. It could have been the fatigue from intense play, an un-willingness to let go of their night- or a wish that if she waited long enough, in that same position, Alex would come back and reward her stamina. She never came back- the frigid temperature within 408 came back instead. Olivia finally let go of the imaginary grip and carefully sat back on her heels, bringing the gift to her lap. Inside was the same exact white tank, brown button up, and white bra she was barely wearing. These were brand new, they were not passionately ripped apart and shredded; they were her exact size. She ceremoniously removed her remaining attire and put on the thoughtful contents, wincing a little while clasping her bosom back into place. Once finished, she then wrapped her frayed array in the packaging as a replacement. While grabbing her discarded jeans she took a moment to stare at the two different ropes laying dead on the floor- their life taken as soon as Alexandra had released their hold. After putting herself back together Olivia coiled the ropes, hung them off her shoulder, and grabbed the newly wrapped gift as she left. Her eyes closed and she gave a reminiscent sigh as she locked up before heading home.

Sitting on the subway Olivia was almost giddy, the lady across from her was apprehensive as she tried to sift through why anyone would carry rope this late at night- meanwhile Olivia's cuts were throbbing. When she entered her apartment the anticipation guided her promptly to the full length mirror within her bedroom. She did a slow no-nonsense strip tease for no-one in particular until fully nude and turned around. The long line on her rear evoked a marveled gasp; her fingers traced its deep red line. After it had been given its' proper due she focused on all the others one by one, reading them as if they were brail, adding them all up. She counted nine - nine was her new favorite number. She met a wide smile in the mirror, almost unaware it was her own. Olivia usually showered before bed. That night she refused to wash away the reminiscence of cum on her thigh. She usually slept in PJs with covers drawn over her back. That night she slept naked, uncovered, on her stomach.

The next morning Cabot entered her office a few minutes later than usual and was taken aback when Hannah immediately showed up at the door.

"This was at the front desk for you. Can I grab you something from the bar downstairs?"

Hannah was surprised the ADA was late and without her signature "wake-up" call. Alex continued to stare at the item that had been placed on her desk.

"A sixteen ounce four shot latte with extra foam. Thank you Hannah."

The intern almost asked about the familiar package, but then thought better of it.

"No problem."

As soon as she was gone Alexandra slowly untied the string and a sweeping smile lit her face as it opened. She felt light and silly as she swooned over the tattered garments, giddy and giggling from the well in tuned gesture. After bringing them up to her nose for a long inhalation she fondly rubbed the cloth lightly with her cheek. The sound of Olivia moaning, the sight of her muscles straining, the feeling of her thigh- all of last night melodiously came to her. The massive pile of Wednesday morning paper work then loomed into view and she reluctantly conceded. She neatly folded the shirts, wrapped them with care, and placed them in her bottom right drawer. She took one more moment to appreciate the thoughtful gift, to appreciate Olivia, and then got back to it. The start of her Wednesday was a good one.

"Over-ruled"

That was the fourth time Judge Gerard had dismissed Cabot's objection. She was starting to feel like a petulant child being chided for fanciful antics. This case lacked everything that innocent metaphor implied. Sarah had been raped. Jeremy was the aggressor. Sarah reported it a week later; the hold-up had been her inability to come to terms with the idea of being a victim. The hold-up in court was a lack of physical evidence. A proverbial "she said" verse "he said" was never an easy task to break apart and the defendant was perfect on paper- the victim, not so much. Many of the details came forward in court, Sarah's earlier lies of omission doing more harm now than if she'd been forthcoming since day one. But she wasn't on trial, she had been drugged and taken advantage of, had never been given a chance to say "no". No matter how many times Cabot reminded the jury and judge that Sarah's past exploits were not on trial they continued to take the stand. Jeremy's spotlight a halo atop his perfectly coiffed hair, Sarah's a blurred mess of risky behavior.

The detective's had found all they could, given all the information they could- but it wasn't enough, there had to be more. The ADA was fighting tooth and nail to build burden of truth above the layered foundation of circumstantial evidence. She thought they had enough, thought it was clear enough- but it wasn't, there had to be more. A shaky time-line, a mosh-pit called a house party, inebriated establishing witnesses, DNA not proving a thing, and now intent was falling apart. The deal given to the drug peddler, who sold Jeremy the ruffies, was proving to be a wrecking ball for the jury. Not to mention the fact that he had sold Sarah some ecstasy four months prior. Something they both had failed to mention before Cabot agreed to go to trial. Would she still have gone? Yes, because she still believed facts had been established. She believed the jury understood his guilt when she cross-examined him on the stand. Her final arguments would remind them. Her final statement would bring them back.

A twenty-minute recess was called before her saving opportunity. Alex stood and focused on organizing the mess atop her table when she heard Olivia's heart-warming voice. The detective was easing the fears of Sarah's family, assuring them that this wrenching ordeal was almost through. She hadn't seen Olivia since Wednesday; cases keeping them locked away in separate worlds through the week-end, this Monday morning had been no different. She was not on this case, she didn't need to be here, but none-the-less her assuring regard met the lawyer's dry stare.

Alexandra moved to her, letting the room fade away, touched her shoulder lightly, and in a voice low enough for only one set of ears-

"Come."

She didn't look back once as she walked out and headed toward the elevators. Space was shifting around her with each sound of Olivia's step; the trial melted off her with the heat she felt from Olivia at her heels. The door opened as if it had been waiting for them, the box was empty as if it knew. Alexandra hit the button for the top floor; they both stood staring straight ahead as it closed. Neither spoke, neither moved as it ascended, instead they enjoyed the peace, enjoyed the emptiness. Once the elevator reached its' goal Alex pulled the stop. She leaned against the wall and focused all of herself on Olivia as if they had all the time in the world. Her brown eye's enchantingly sparkled with a mix of patience and desire as she waited for a command. Alexandra methodically removed her glasses with one hand.

"Take off your shirt."

Neither of them broke the casted spell their eye contact was creating as Olivia calmly removed her jacket and un-tucked her shirt. The dark green tee obstructed their view for a moment but neither of them noticed, their eye's had been locked through and through. The silence dissipated briefly as her clothing hit the floor, Olivia's top only covered by a simple white bra.

"Loosen your pants."

Piece by piece her belt was released, her button undone, and her zipper led down- Alexandra's countenance never varied. She leaned off the wall and closed the small distance between them. Olivia's abdomen twitched as hands glided around her waist.

"Turn around."

The desire laden voice led her in a circle with the guiding hands. As soon as her back was exposed Olivia looked down and puffed large prideful breaths, expanding her muscles, pulling at the seams of her cuts- displaying the dried red and white streams passion had carved into her olive tone. She stuttered air as her admirer softly touched them and as a light kiss was given to each exposed one. She sighed when one arm wrapped around her and caught the air as one reached down onto her skin- lying on the entire length of her most cherished score. Her head rolled back as she felt Alexandra's wanting on the side of her neck.

"Good."

She was ready to tilt it in for more when the presence was gone, the arm was released- the hand was now absent. The elevator was moving. Olivia tried not to show lament as she accepted the shirt from Alexandra's outstretched hand. She tried not to sulk as Alexandra held her jacket and helped her back in. She tried not to be agitated as she fastened her belt and Alexandra put on her glasses. But she didn't exit the elevator with the lawyer- instead she stayed, selfishly let the door close and rode it down.

Alexandra Cabot's final argument was brilliant for those who heard it. Unfortunately Jeremy was only convicted on one count- assault; the ADA trying to understand how it hadn't led to a guilty verdict on the rape charge. At least the jury agreed he had drugged Sarah without her consent, but it wasn't enough.

WHUMP!

_Why can't I get enough?_

WHUMP!

_What the hell am I doing?_

WHUMP!

_What the hell are we doing?_

Her questions remained unanswered by the punching bag despite Olivia's drive. It had been a full week now, once again she was waiting to be beckoned-waiting for Alexandra's call. Twice. Twice she had been taken. The hanging outlet was given two jabs and a strong shovel hook. That was it, two times- two kisses she was barely cognizant for, three to six orgasms- it was hard to tell, and nothing that would remotely be considered cuddling. She had yet to actually see Alex naked! Arm punch, cross, cross, uppercut. And oh that embrace in the elevator. Olivia formed her fingers into a long fist and started to jab anew.

Day after day her cuts would ding sharply and force her attention. Every time she sat at her desk, scrunched into a car, stretched. Night after night she would devotedly review them and assign meaning. Each one given a memory: when her breast was slapped, her nipple assaulted until beyond erect, her stomach pinched and twisted. The one still healing on her rear was enthusiastically given the moment her pussy was taken past fulfillment.

WHUMP!

She wanted to fulfill Alexandra. She wanted to be the one guiding her sexual screams. She wanted to actually touch her, to taste her, to fuck her.

The bag stopped recoiling despite her frenzied inertia. Olivia stopped and leaned into the heavy mass.

Alexandra had teased her this morning again. They were both in that dammed elevator, laughably alone, and she leaned in as if for a kiss. Olivia was confused by what would be considered a common place gesture and wasn't sure what to do with it. She wanted to kiss her but what would follow? What would the tantalizing blonde do next? Just as she decided that whatever it was, it was going to be wonderful, the doors started to open. Alex straightened out, gave a small smirk and a wink, then walked out- Olivia had missed her chance.

Hoping to gain another, today she gave Cabot signs that she was ready for more- wanting more. While meeting with everyone at the precinct Olivia taunted her with an insistently fidgeting tongue. Appearing to absentmindedly travel its' tip across her lips and teeth, nipping at it occasionally as if lost in thought. Once everyone was exiting the office Alexandra directly addressed the teasing with her knock-you-on-your-ass stare. Olivia gave a spritely smile and winked.

_You know you want it._

Alex smirked again then leaned forward on both arms of Olivia's chair. Hair tickled the neck and cheek as she whispered-

"Really?"

She pulled up and arrogantly walked out, sashaying her ass with each click of sharp heel.

A swell of desire instantly tsunami'd through as the unsuspecting bag was given a powerful sucker punch. Olivia wiped an arm across her panting mouth then grabbed her gym bag. She was in no mood to change, no mood to shower. It was nine thirty as she entered the elevator, happy that no one shared the space with her stink. It came as a shock when the door was stopped to open and her tormenting muse stepped in. Before they were fully shut Alexandra turned to her-

"Once you call and say you are ready I will be at your door within two hours."

_What?_

"You have five minutes to get us both naked, five minutes to get me to the bed, and-

Her voice started to sound husky as she annunciated perfectly through the parameters.

" –five minutes to get your tongue in my cunt."

She pulled the detective's body into her for emphasis, crashing their hips together. Her speech quickened.

"Fifteen minutes total, with a chance for more. "

Olivia stifled a moan as Alexandra rushed a tongue up her neck and tasted her sweat.

"IF you reach the finish line-"

She was trembling slightly as she licked her lips then pressed them to Olivia's ear-

"-you can do whatever you want for however long you want."

Her tongue caught a drop about to fall from the lobe.

"I'm very responsive."

Everything within Olivia was turned on.

The ride was a short one and Alex finished her piece just as the door started to open. As she walked out she added the catch-

"But that doesn't mean I'm easy."

Olivia was still in the elevator, gawking at the once again striking strutting figure. As the door closed her earlier distress closed with it. The well-worn machine rested on the lobby floor, waiting for some-one to tell it what to do.


	8. The Detective's Apartment

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug* S/M not really present, this time it's rough wrestling sex. (S/M will be back next round.) More erotica than romance, Enjoy!

**Quickie: ** A thank you for some messages I received about the original content. Less of an anatomy lesson now (which are insightful and great as applied knowledge *hehe*- but not necessarily romantic :P)

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**Part 8: The Detective's Apartment**

"_Once you are ready-"_

Ready? Her building was an inferno- bright orange flame leapt from scorching white surfaces, her libido blazing through substantial reason as if it were mere kindling. Alexandra was daring her to rush head first into the colossal combustion. Ready? She was dangerously so.

Olivia didn't call that night. She wasn't afraid of Alex, she was afraid of herself.

The next day Cabot was all business at the precinct. There were no subtle glances, suggestive exchanges, or seductive shenanigans. There was no hint of impatience.

Olivia didn't call that night. She wanted to make the lawyer wait, just as she had waited.

The day after that Cabot wore an uncomplicated number- a conservative little black dress with one simple zipper and thigh high sheer hoses that were impossibly easy to tear. She made sure to flaunt its' simplicity at the precinct while heading to Cragen's office; barely saying 'hello' to the gang- her high-heeled strikes volumes above the greeting. When leaving, she made sure to mention to him that she had scheduled a dinner meeting with Judge Foster for seven o' clock – "it's nothing to do with a case, just a chance to schmooze". Olivia was intelligent; she knew exactly what was going on. But as she noticed the single stitched seams swank on by her pride wanted to cash in- the temptation to call proving too hefty a sum to pass up.

At five forty five Alex's phone rang while she was securing the last two latches on a blouse she was definitely going to purchase.

A cock sure voice came through as soon as she picked up.

"I'm ready, are you?"

She waited a beat before answering.

"Good."

After hanging up she called her uncle's long time college buddy.

"I'm so sorry to ask and if it's not possible I understand, but could we push our soiree back to seven thirty?"

"Of course Bunny, I'm still working through some things myself."

"Thanks. You really are Bammin' Bobby."

Judge Robert Foster smiled with nostalgia as he hung up with his favorite adopted niece.

Alexandra smiled too, congratulating her ability to perfectly plan. The smile was one of continued confidence as she paid.

"I'm wearing these out."

The cashier bagged her original attire and gave thanks as she left the boutique. It was a five minute walk to her destination. She wasn't going to wait two hours.

Olivia had left work a little early and called Alex as soon as she reached her block. The lawyer never stipulated that the call had to be convenient- Benson smirked. Her apartment was clean, primarily because it was practically barren, and presentable. The bedroom was the only real place of concern anyway and she was far from a slob. After removing her shoes and putting them in the front closet she sat down to wait; presuming there would be at least an hour to review her designed play by play before changing. She was unzipping the dress for the third time that day when a light knocking interrupted her plans. The clock on the stove read six.

_Already?_

It couldn't be. But of course it was.

Alexandra looked beautiful. She was devastatingly brilliant. Her dark grey pencil skirt and sheer hoses accentuated the cobalt high necked Victorian style top perfectly. They both accentuated her skin tone, bright blue uncovered eyes and champagne hair perfectly. Olivia felt boorish in her simple black tank and pants by comparison. She looked like an angel, an angel with a devilish smile. The infinite number of small silver hooks keeping the top fastened was her last observation, suddenly she was being kissed.

The pressure was strong yet soft, the energy frantic yet fluid. It was impossible not to lose her-self within it. Their bodies leaned back and forth with each push and pull, each response and return. It was a revving engine- Olivia's want burning rubber before hitting drive. She rushed Alex backward, closing the door, depressing the slender body into the wood with her own. Alexandra's hands couldn't decide where to lie. They moved around Olivia's back, to her waist, to her ass- until they were off her entirely, unable to reach as forearms were crossed over her shoulders. The detective's hands rarely wavered from the smallest part of the delicate waist- directing it for leverage, controlling their movements by her center. Weeks of pent-up desire led her; Olivia was finally able to react, finally able to lead. This was what she had been craving- a chance to lick the lawyer's pinkish tight upper lip, the opportunity to suck on its' pillowed bottom. Alex's tongue was massaged with her own, within either mouth- it didn't matter. The strokes were stretched, explorative, soft and wet; at times almost assaulting- pointed, prompt and pressing. Neither woman cared much for air, each single-mindedly engaged for different yet similar reasons. They had been at it for some time when Olivia felt teeth. Alexandra was smiling as she panted through their burrowing skims -

"Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock. . "

Shit. She had five minutes.

Another curse leapt through Olivia's mind as she stole a look at the insurmountable number of latches. Her fingers fumbled through the first few as Alexandra's passionate kisses continued without her. She planted them on her neck, sucked on her jaw, and licked loops on her lobe. Her head kept getting in the way, her mouth kept tempting Olivia back for a quick one, and her hands were wrapping them together tighter, closer. Recognizing the play for what it was Olivia went in for another lasting lip lock while pulling her away from the door. As Alexandra tried to release she pressed in deeper, demanding they continue as her venturing hands finally found their goal. She took the back zipper down viciously and let their mouths part as she crowded her hands between all impeding garments. The cloth tore as she recklessly forced it down- as Alexandra squealed. Her nails had nicked some thigh, small red lines scattered the downward path. Olivia saw the legs twitch as she rose.

She left the mess of skirt, panty hose, and underwear at her ankles- hoping to create a hurdle for the blonde's increasing exuberance. Alexandra wouldn't quit after the advance - grabbing at her face, incessantly trying to pull it towards her licked lips; reaching with clawed hands around her shoulders, ribs- clutching at her rear. The tensed neck refused her, the shoulders shrugged her off, the bottom contracted from use- not reaction. Olivia's focus wouldn't allow distracting touches, her efforts only increased. She started to skillfully block the arms that kept seeking to bring her in. Alexandra's snowy vines started twisting in alternating angles, disordered nibbles chasing behind them, pricking her skin like thorns- coming at her faster and faster.

Frustration mounting Olivia seized them with bruising pressure and bent her capture back- de ja vu hit as Alex released a petite pleased utterance. She then attempted to wreck the blouse with her teeth, the utterance turned into a long audible 'oh'- it didn't work, she needed her hands. As soon as she let go of her arrest the freed con nabbed her and compressed the bent head against her bosom- the top of Olivia's ears turning red as she was held tight to the heaving chest. Out of no-where there was a ticking sound; it was speeding up. At once Benson recalled the out of place watch she had glossed over while taking Cabot in. The woman was a damn scout, always prepared.

_I'm running out of time._

Olivia's resolve was set as she charged her bent weight forward; Alexandra had no choice but to push off her bunched bottoms as she was head-butted back first into the door. Her lithe arms were grabbed and she was wheeled around then checked hard against the wood- an excited gasp barely made it out of the pressed cheek as air temporarily knocked out of her. The ticking was speeding up; Alexandra was momentarily still. Olivia bit the sharpest point of her canines through the blue cotton and swiftly wrenched at the hole; she yanked down the sleeves, eradicating the once beautiful blouse, while hastily using her teeth to undo the latched bra. Alexandra moaned as some skin was pinched then pulled between them- the moan hadn't finished as she was spun again, tight and hard then jerked into the door; again an excited gasp barely making it out. Olivia had flung the bra down and off when-

_Ding- _she barely made it through the first round.

The detective thickly panted. She was somewhere beyond excited and Alexandra was gloriously exposed. Her milky white breasts were small and perky with bright pink circles highlighting the dainty nipples. Her stomach was flat and toned with an alabaster shine. Her sex was waxed bare, the coral line of her cunt popping through on the bottom. Her slim legs went on for frosted miles. It was the first time Olivia had seen this much of her desire's skin, it was the first time she was privy to the yearned for nudity, the imagined nakedness. It far from disappointed, she had to- her resolve dammed.

Alexandra beckoned with a sweet mischievous smile and polished the back of her calf with a rising ankle as Olivia removed her own shirt, took off her own bra. She willingly wrapped into the outstretched arms and released a raw sigh as their chests collided. The nerves on her nipples were awakened as they met the smaller pair, her abdomen tightly shivered as it rose and fell with the deepening diaphragm- Alexandra's low breaths exhaling hot steam into her welcoming mouth. Believing the hard part to be over she allowed time to passionately lounge in the tropical inlet, drifting away as her front rubbed in torrid circles, wallowing in the combined feeling of supple yet firm toasty skin. Alexandra's hands continued to run indiscriminately across her body, her leg hooked around and pulled them closer in- deepening their embrace, securing their mouth's sweeping caresses.

Benson was busy framing the tight ass with outstretched fingers; pulling the cheeks apart then rolling them back together as her bottom button was being undone. Once she felt a tug at her pants she regained some focus and started to guide them both away from the door. Alexandra enveloped her arms around the detective's neck and extended their un-ending marathon as she jumped just enough to wrap both legs around the muscular waist. She hooked her calves- pressing her bare center into the lowest exposed bulge within the well defined six pack.

Olivia grasped the powdery thighs; pounding her sex back -pulsing the wetness into her skin again. Alexandra still didn't stop the kiss as hips shifted up and down while off the ground, as she shuddered. She was thrillingly aroused- then Olivia remembered,

"_-you can do whatever you want for however long you want-"_

Why was she wasting time?

She started to carry her closer to the open bedroom door confident in her might. They almost reached the end of the living room when spear-like pain blasted through the top chiseled line of her waist- Alexandra was squeezing her thighs with nefarious fortitude; pushing them deep down onto the inner frame, using her grinds to sharpen the steely stings. The constricted carrier was losing air, was losing strength and still the woman wouldn't deliver her lips, unfasten her hips. Instead she increased her body's potency, increased her binding kisses, and increased her assailing tongue- melding them together. As Olivia went to shift the deadening weight Alexandra affixed her tenacious clamp and bit down on a juicy lower lip. The wide strike on the numbed redden rim was a quick opposition; a nail gun shooting several at once through the well tended to mouth- her vision became spackled with red neon spots. A carnivorous cry surged from Olivia turning into an uproar as she banged her uncooperative damsel's back into the wall. It didn't disengage the chomp, instead it became set with more determination- Olivia increased her momentum and bumped the body back again. Alexandra's gasp let the lip go, her coo expressed favor. That cursed watch was starting to tick.

Believing the rattle to have sequestered action long enough, Olivia kept her hold. She rammed her lips back- taking kisses as Alex recovered, letting her lick the bits of rounded blood once she reawakened, tasting the coppery mix within the other woman's tongue. She thumped her one more time to emphasize who was boss and turned to finish the short distance. As soon as the wall was no longer in the way Alexandra savagely pushed down on Olivia's shoulders and pulled her body up in an irresponsibly acrobatic move that held no concern for the consequences. Her head almost hit the ceiling as her feet clasped the loose pants but was saved as they sagged- Olivia falling forward from the momentous front-end weight.

_What the fuck?_

They both crashed carelessly to the floor. Cabot accomplished her eccentric tasks: pulling down those infernal bottoms, giving Olivia another turn, another challenge- all the while intensifying her own energy, intensifying her own arousal. The frazzled Benson pushed off a little to make sure the crushed crazy was okay, she was- in fact she was laughing, manically giggling through-

"Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock."

She was animalistic- rubbing their bodies together, lifting her head up for stolen kisses, nipping wherever, pulling at hips, pressing their centers together, grinding whatever her sex would touch- all while continuing her stimulated giggles and chants. Olivia felt crazy; the writhing madness was turning her on, was making her body writhe- was turning her into a purring jaguar. The ticking started to speed up. Benson leapt up growling and flung off the restraining bundle around her ankles. If Alexandra wanted barbarity she was going to get it.

She grabbed her prize under the arms and pulled, Alexandra chaotically thrashed her body- making it practically impossible to continue, half-heartedly screaming and kicking. Olivia kept trying but the floor burns and tight grip did not decrease the tantrum- they fed it. They encouraged her to further bicker and rebel, to bounce her hips and warp her waist, to blindly grasp for the retreating ankles behind her, to scratch at the arms holding her. The ticking was speeding up. She crashed herself into the wall as Olivia let go and she practically screamed an orgasm as her head felt a tightening pique. Olivia was grunting as she dragged her quickly to the bedroom by the hair, fistfuls of honey strands fraying between her fingers. Alexandra, to make it perfectly bearable, gripped the anchored wrist and pulled into the primitive lug. Twisting was out of the question, helping her only option-the move was brilliant.

Once inside the strong armed champion lifted her humbled combatant and flung- Alexandra briefly felt like she was flying until dropping down onto the bed, her bouncing body produced another giggle. It stopped as soon as she looked at the beauty towering over her; Olivia looked handsomely wild- she looked like an ancient islander preparing for a war cry. She looked like she was almost ready. Almost.

_Ding - _Olivia pounced.

Her figure twirled while in the air until parallel with the bare form beneath her, aiming low with amazing accuracy. Alexandra, as if instinct, widened her legs expectantly; Olivia came down and after ricocheting briefly she rebounded squarely above her goal, between those long legs- her stilling head staring at a very wet sex. Within a nanosecond, before her tongue could even exit, she heard a squeal as Alexandra pulled back and slid away- the ardent velocity causing her raised form to smash against the wall at the bed's head. She took control of the movement; thrust her hips forward, tucked her legs under-coming to her knees.

Olivia jettisoned toward her while staying low and attempted to nab the thighs but Alexandra swiftly went to all fours; the torpedoing energy was directed horizontally up and instead of bringing the blonde back down Olivia's bosom crashed high into the smaller chest- her sensitive breasts beating with the blend. Undeterred Olivia came to her knees easily and looped her arms free. She was now grappling with Alexandra's oncoming hands, securing their entwined fingers, trying to tilt her wrist down, over, around- fighting for control.

Both women grunted and huffed as they flexed through the contorting kinks. Both women tried to distract the other with merciless kisses- both women were unwilling to pass any given opportunity to instigate a harder one. Olivia was stronger, she was able to bring their arms tight to their sides and keep them there. She jerked and jabbed her shoulder into the creamy collar bone, Alexandra's receptive rumbles vibrated through her lips, compelling her to try for more.

She freed her hands, quickly wrapped them under the pearly thighs, then immediately pulled while lifting- Alexandra's head hit the wall once as she was forced again to her back. She sedately whined but still had the wherewithal to raise her ass and clamp her lofty legs around Olivia's waist lickety-split. The power residing within them was still impressive, a vice too strong to loosen. Olivia struggled to push them down to no avail; she slapped and dug her nails into them to no avail. While continuing to beat at them with her left she squeezed her right thumb between their bodies and bent it into the border of Alexandra's drenched cunt, trying to tap it in within the taxing tight space.

Cabot crossly gasped, annoyed with the vague entry- she had said tongue, Benson was playing dirty. She snarled as she bat at the voluptuous bronze breasts, as she pinched the superb dark nipples. Her partner began to moan- still striving to thwart the thighs while swatting at the magnificent onset; all with only one usable hand, the other still pumping. Alexandra started grinding. Both of them started to feel a hinting build- but it wasn't from the promise they wanted. Olivia, provoked into a new line of action, confiscated the whacking wrists and rolled forward- her oppressive body crunched Alexandra's form as she spread their arms out wide, as she spread her legs out flat against the bed. The damn watch started to tick. They both breathed heavily, action halted briefly while each tried to figure out what to do next.

Olivia was the first to move, she shoveled her chin into Alexandra's elegant nook- digging deep into the pulsing beat. She kept her upper grounding while quickly walking her lower body right; skewing the waist beneath her, testing its' flexibility, threatening to snap it if Alexandra didn't loosen her abductors. Her pinned potential win stifled an 'ah' as her neck felt the charging of pinched nerves, as her center was corked and coiled- she finally released her thighs. The downward force lost its' strength as Olivia's feet lost the bed beneath them; Alexandra took advantage. She was precariously perched atop the mattress's side, a grievous error on Benson's part- she had been warned that this wouldn't be easy.

Alexandra bucked up, Olivia's body raised just enough- she swiftly dug a knee into the tender outline of ribs and pushed off- the victim yelped as her aggressor rolled off the bed with a comically loud 'thump'. The down stair neighbor's looked up at their ceiling, what was going on in there? Olivia immediately slid to the side and peered down out of concern, once again Cabot was giggling- lying flat on her back, rubbing her thighs together and orgasmic'ly giggling. Did moving off the bed disqualify this round? The ticking sped up; Alexandra locked their eyes in a challenging stare- no, it did not.

As Olivia bounded off the bed her target veered away, she landed on all fours and her play thing immediately hooked arms around the rippling waist. Alexandra was in a wrestler's stance; her body cradled over Olivia's curved back sideways. The purring jaguar was about to get pinned. That frosty leg went between Benson's bent posts, those snowy vines now chopped across her grounded arms then took the slanting momentum, her left wrist was pulled between her legs, and her body was once again roughly cradled. Olivia's own forearm pressed into her own pussy, the fisted wrist leaned packed into her butt's crack.

The ticking sped up as she fought the desire to rub.

Assembling focus she went flat to counter the move, bringing Alexandra's hold down flat with her, waiting for the blonde to try and roll forward so she could turn this all around and come out on top again. Instead of rolling forward the skilled jezebel rolled back, stimulating Olivia's sex with her own rod like arm as she twisted in and draped her kitten over. Olivia was on top but she did not have the advantage. She was staring at the ceiling while feeling the heat of Alexandra's pussy on the back of her head; her breasts were separated by her own arm that was being pulled down tight, her own hand was slipping within her own juices. Meanwhile, Alexandra's mouth was inches away- beneath and below with an upward view of the dark moist cunt.

The ticking sped up- Alexandra let go of the wrist. As Olivia lifted her arms in excitement of release creamy legs went through them and slim ankles clasped crossed behind her head- binding her up top, her limbs awkwardly fluttering like angled wings. Alexandra grabbed the rock hard bumping thighs and pulled with any strength left in her reserve. She jutted her head up, jutted her tongue out and wiggled its' tip between the folds. Olivia was now the one grunting tantrum filled screams- she bucked her hips and banged Alexandra's back against the floor, clapped her thighs and vaulted them against Alexandra's ears. Each individual toe on her planted feet stretched apart in furiously pleased tension because it wasn't working.

The wonderful sensation of a moist strength licking into her was there. Despite her frantic attempts it jostled in and out of her welcoming cunt- Alexandra's moans reverberating throughout.

"_IF you reach the finish line"-_became a nagging imaginary tune, only stopping with the very real:

_Ding_


	9. The Vehicle

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug*, S/M is presented.

**Confession: **Had no idea I was going to write this chapter, now its' gonna become two.

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**Part 9: The Vehicle**

"Liv? Liv!"

Olivia looked at her partner, annoyed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah- you? "

Eliot shook his head. She sure did love deflection.

"Okay. . . "

He picked through the bag of warmed peanuts, and chose one that was almost burnt.

"I said your name four times before you answered."

They had been sitting here for over an hour, an hour of waiting to see if this guy Abraham would return. An ex-con who was far from rehabilitated, back into the black market; the only business he ever did well in- hard to say 'succeeded in' when the guy was caught.

In the wee hours of morning they were called to the crime scene. A late twenties white male- naked, beaten to a pulp, and sodomized. His stiffening body was laid awkwardly in the dumpster, a discarded marionette. There was no ID, but there was an entrance stamp on the back of his hand- a bar that was nearby. The 'lounge' boasted it had over 75 different martinis; it also projected male on male gonzo porn in the backroom. Ten different reels overlapping each other on the pristine white walls, playing on the yellowed floor- the stench of too many orgies preceding one another in too little time fused with a lemony fresh scent.

"You both owe me one hell of a dinner."

CSU was not happy to be called in at three thirty am. Tasked with finding any evidence of importance within this fest was akin to the notorious needle in a haystack. Even a pay phone would have been better received. Scratch that, there was a payphone that needed dusting too.

The owner was cooperative, to a degree. His business skirted the line of legit- the patrons ranged from dare-devil tourists looking for some edge to the fashionably unshakeable manhattan'ites. After two am his establishment became less varied, containing usually one young passed-out-drunk supportive female friend; her gay boyfriend now in the back- joining the men who lived for anonymous group sex. Not in today's twilight hours of course. Flashing sirens dampened the spirit of the whole thing.

He almost immediately threw Abraham to the lions, claiming the shady salesmen was probably a witness- considering the entrepreneur was in the alley way almost every night, peddling 'holistic-aphrodisiacs'-' AKA who knows what the fuck is in them'.

"I kept telling him no solicitation so now he works in that alley. Go, go talk him."

He was no longer there of course, instead there was a body.

At four am, Olivia and Eliot took turns reading up on Abraham and napping in the crib. They were waiting for some forensic leads; Munch and Finn were due to canvas some more at eight am.

Seven thirty am they had the victim's name and address- he lived alone, he had no listed relatives. Olivia could feel his loneliness.

Around twelve pm they spoke to a few of last night's attendees who were in the system. Elliot threatened to do some creative 'soliciting' of his own. Someone spilled. A condemned factory near the river was where Abraham kept his stock- a sort of make-shift one stop herbal sex shop.

So here they were, pursuing what could be a dud lead- an hour into waiting for him to return, less than a block from the murder scene. Catching him red-handed could provide some leverage, could provide some incentive; could give them an edge in interrogation. Thus far they had a bunch of 'could' and Olivia had far too little sleep.

Sitting here in the car was almost irritating for her after such a hurried start. It had been over seventeen hours since she was pinned in her apartment and ten since she had time for any distraction. She wasn't necessarily willing to think of last evening, but she wasn't necessarily un-willing either. She still felt alone. Anything that provided relief from her innate ability to experience extensive empathy would be welcomed. Eliot would have to entertain himself.

Alexandra stopped-that watch said time was up, so she stopped. Olivia was almost over the edge. She had been brought to that very ledge several times within the last fifteen minutes. But that didn't appear to matter to the victor, or maybe it did. Given the 'nature' of their current run-ins it was par for the course. Alexandra loved to leave her hanging, loved to leave her deliriously wanting.

She had lost, maybe not fair and square, but neither of them could throw the first stone.

"_whatever you want for however long you want"_

"I want-"

Alexandra was by her side on the floor, propped up, one finger painting images within the sweat pooling between her breasts.

"- to shower, is there a clean towel?"

Olivia was still on her back, panting, as she nodded yes.

"Come."

Alexandra didn't request her presence in the tub- she told her to be an audience. Olivia stayed at a kneeling attention; her hands clasped behind, her knees bruising on the hard tile- watching. She was grateful that her shower curtain was clear and annoyed that it wasn't glass. It was a long shower, the beautiful blonde dutifully completing her everyday activity like no one was there- it was almost intimate. After washing under scalding hot, the tap was switched to pure cold- Olivia could feel a chill darting through the steam. The curtain parted, her skin shone like ice. Botticelli's Venus couldn't hold a candle- the goddess green with envy even though Alexandra stood in old porcelain. She deserved a shell. She deserved to be in that masterpiece. She deserved-

"I want some water. Two cubes. Wait on your knees with it outside the door."

Alexandra sounded sweetly amused, as if she knew exactly what her fan had been thinking. Olivia had no idea how expressive her brown eyes were; how easy it was to see her emotional states- a countenance that was consistently uncovered. You never knew the precise thought, but the foot notes always came through. She patiently waited for some movement, once Olivia went to get up-

"Crawl."

So she did; Alexandra eying her pendulating posterior and smiling at the sheen beaming between her thighs- shutting the door simply, after it was no longer in view.

Olivia only stood when necessary, trying to prove something in her obedience - pulling up to get the cup, two cubes, then on to her knees while it was filled. Once the asked for water was ready, she went back down to all fours- sliding the glass cautiously along the floor, crawling. She was turned on, and that amazed her. She was constantly amazed in this, in their, whatever it was. Here she was, a loser in some strange unwatched parade, and all she desired was to be ready for Alexandra, on her knees, at the door. Hoping to be used thoroughly for some unexpected punishment, anticipating what rewards her defeat would bring, consoling her pride- inching forward. She was thankful when her legs parted, able to prevent weakness from taking over, finally in position. Once there her mind went blank, her body felt thoughts as if they were sensations, repurposing them all without giving a choice- she just . . . and stared at the door.

After a time, it opened. Alexandra was thoroughly dry; her hair loosely up in a messy bun. There was no towel, the fair sex right at Olivia's eye level. Ignoring the licking lips below, she took the glass.

"Good."

Fingers affectionately ran through short dark hair as Alexandra walked past, sipping. Olivia's throat felt dry. She came back with a bag from the little shop down the block; the detective had never visited this boutique- but now she wanted to. Alexandra brought it with her to the bed, still elegant as she set down the water atop a coaster, still graceful as she sat down and crossed her legs, still nude.

"I want . . . "

_Yes?_

". . . you to dress me."

Everything became difficult after that. The woman who had worked diligently, resiliently, and fiercely to disrobe her charm was now forced to perform a reverse strip. Alexandra graciously shifted only as needed, firmly whispering each command as she watched Olivia intently- ordering her to put individual items on, one at a time: 'Thong. Stocking. Stocking. Garter. Clasp. Bra. Dress. Heel. Heel.'

Her mind was still blank, unable to provide a distraction from the task; its' absence heightened every tactual sequence.

'Thong'- most difficult, it signaled the start, and it had to be lined just right along her firm rear. 'Stocking. Stocking'- were too tempting, grazing silky legs as she rolled on the second skin. 'Garter'- the hips beneath were designed to grind, she could feel their flexibility. 'Clasp'- something inside her was going to snap. 'Bra'-she let her fingers lightly outline the side of Alexandra's breast- a swift jerk and stare was given in response, she closed it. 'Dress' – it was the same black number worn that morning, the same one that made her foolhardily rush.

_Bitch._

Her first formulated thought. As Olivia raised the only zipper she knew the slur was insincere.

'Heel. Heel'- But as she carefully slid the stilettos onto pedicured, well tended feet- it was becoming undeniable that she was a little . . . pissed off. Alexandra went to the full length mirror- approving the final picture. In the reflection Olivia saw her smile, almost in gratitude, as she recognized the two different ropes hanging off its' corners.

"Good."

Seven o' five pm and they were at the front door.

Fifteen minutes of concupiscent fighting and fifty of uncommon torture. Olivia was allowed to stand.

Before leaving for her dinner appointment, Cabot ran a hand tellingly along the statuesque side then brought it further down. Benson gasped as one finger curled along her slit. She rebuffed a roused reply as it was brought to the pinkish lips and declined the desire to dissolve as it was sucked clean.

"Thanks for the appetizer."

Alex turned to leave, but as always, she just had to add a last word:

"I thought you could take me detective."

Now it was Olivia's body that pressed into the wood as soon as her door was shut. She turned to her still clean apartment. There was no trace of the disheveled event, the passionate struggle- she remained naked and decided to get a drink.

Last night she couldn't sleep. Olivia was understandably exhausted but couldn't rest. Instead she repeated their actions over and over, cringing every time with defeat then desirously moaning immediately after- swinging to and fro from competitive drive to willing submission. She repeated: 'thong, stocking, stocking, garter, clasp, bra, dress, heel, heel' -endlessly, sometimes whispering the words aloud. Her want saturated each syllable, making it difficult to finish a single word, stumbling and stuttering through. She was once again panting. She could hear herself begging, could feel her body screaming. But she couldn't stop and wouldn't masturbate, instead her body would seizure. Feeling this height, experiencing need absolutely- it was exquisitely new. This excruciating pleasure was beyond her logical self. There was a compulsion to refrain, to let everything literally simmer.

When her phone rang at two thirty am she was still awake.

"Benson . . . I'll be right there."

She was needed at the mouth of Hell's Kitchen, how appropriate.

Alexandra had left a present. The ripped apart garments had been waiting for her, in their specialty bag, outside the door. She put it inside; the simmering was starting to bubble.

And now it was a full two hours into their stake out. With all this time to reflect and re-live Olivia's boiling blood felt pressurized- lust a few degrees away from becoming a geyser.

"Seventh Ave. and Barrow."

Cabot decided to cab it after leaving the detective's apartment. The drive to Greenwich Village would take a bit, but she should be right on time- if not a little early.

The restaurant was in an old carriage house. With large crystal chandeliers, deep oak tones, and live piano music it was more romantic than a business setting. Several years ago it was where the Fosters had their 25th wedding anniversary; it became a fast favorite within their social circle, Cabot's family included. Whenever she met with Robert he would often reminisce about his younger days between the career advice and discussion. Alex was always entertained by his memories with her father; he enjoyed the attention and interest. Their past together held more within it than he realized. It was at his thirtieth anniversary party that Alex met her first; the favored fake uncle was unknowingly forever associated with her awakening.

Despite her admirable ability to compartmentalize, keeping her mind clean and controlled by tidily filing within pre-defined boxes, some things were unable to be confined at will. They would refuse to wait patiently for her to access their information. Sensational memories and thoughts would spill out, triggered at times by the most random things. Her only option when that occurred was to acknowledge each scattered form as she put them back in, to affectionately kiss the container as it was once again appropriately stored away- giving it the proper due. She sat down in the cab happy and hopeful, but as soon as she started to focus on the upcoming dinner a disordered mess appeared, waiting to be sifted through.

"How do you make love?"

Mrs. Janelle Beauvais- born in Le Portel of Northern France, near Belgium. Her father was a fishermen, her mother ran a bed a breakfast for tourists from their home. Janelle helped. She felt stifled in the little town; that was the only reason she would give anyone for why she left. A few suspected there was a darker story that she would never tell, several knew she had changed her name. Running away at age 15 she headed towards her own romanticized version of Paris. Her seven years there also remained a tale untold. She traveled further south to Marseilles at age twenty two and immersed herself in the art culture and Mediterranean sunshine. Her luxurious long black hair, perfect curves, and doe like skin brought a lot of attention. There were still modernist photos of her circulating through various museums. She married Ambroise Beauvais in her late twenties, right before he was hired by a large corporation in America. His tax expertise was known internationally, his skill discussed behind closed doors. They traveled often. He would work while she would succeed as a trophy wife- businessmen swooning into hushed agreements. She was worldly, mysterious, gorgeous, and glamorous. College Junior Alex adored her, just as so many people did.

They talked briefly at the anniversary party-

"Call me Janelle."

- it was enough. Soon after, any social event Alex attended in Manhattan Janelle was there. They would inadvertently sit across from each other; innocently stumble upon one another at the buffet, the coat check, the kitchen. Each time they would talk briefly; every time she was left feeling heavy and heady- sure that behind the trite conversation laid some innuendo, some promise.

The summer before her senior year Janelle hosted a small gathering at her loft on the upper-east side. It was a casual evening affair, an excuse to share her recent purchase of a Kandinsky and what was proclaimed Middleton Whiskey's best year. Alex stayed well past the last guest, not needing to go to her internship the next day, not wanting to leave- Janelle's dark dove-grey dress dipped low on her back. All night Alex had been captivated by the postures' moving line.

"Do you enjoy making love to him?"

They had been sitting on the Bauhaus love seat, actually talking, giggling at times- when the subject of Brandon came up, her boyfriend of two years. Lighting was now only provided by the wrought iron candle stands throughout the space. Their casted spell furthered the feeling of quite solitude, it encouraged beckoning confessions. Alex was reassured, able to believe she hadn't been imagining the impossible.

Janelle had her legs tucked tight against her side, her arm laid with ease along the back of the couch, leaning forward, fully invested in their conversation. She suggestively touched Alex briefly and often, at times letting her hand linger a little longer. Right now it supported her head- resting against her pristine cheek. The topic had shifted subtly- without warning Alex was answering honestly.

"Yes, basically. "

"Sounds like my husband and I. Oh, but isn't life too short for basically?"

Her vacant sigh sung with the implication of a desire to become occupied. The flames flickered as if on cue. Alex's lips started to buzz as their tete a tete continued. Janelle's crystalline tone coaxed her into divulging details she had never before shared; how it felt the first time, her favorite moments, her impressions. She admitted to missing a specific sensation. It only happened once, when her virginity was given. When he entered his erection stung, it fired through every part of her; a rush of scalding heat ran wet through her for a blissful moment.

"We only receive such a . . . we only have that once. I know it's the part most want over and done with, they say it's painful, but at the same time we can never bring it back. That feeling, your inner walls filling for the first time, the hymen breaking- it's a memory I hold on to, cherish even. The physical sensation I could only have once."

Janelle didn't look empathetic or saddened. Instead there was something, untamed.

"I take it he only uses his penis then."

This response was not expected.

"So, how does he fuck you?"

Alex felt her body tingle. This follow-up was not expected- nor the low casual way it was presented. How did she make the coarse seem regal?

She watched Janelle's eyes widen slightly as their sex life was described in detail: romantic interludes, making out, heavy petting, occasional oral, often missionary, often in bed, sometimes elsewhere, once against a wall . . . the French beauty led a strand of hair away from the blue eyes, ignored the catching breath.

"And the orgasms? What are they like?"

A whirring was wrapping around them- she was determined not to whisper and shy away. Alex kept her descriptions steady, remaining forthright despite her desire to add some flourishes. She liked orgasms, most do, but the finish rarely lived up to its hype. She preferred everything that came before, the build-up was never long enough. Sex was like an itch to be scratched. Brandon was good, he made her cum twice one night, she just felt like there should be more, wanted more.

Her curious companion was noticeably forcing steady breaths, Alex felt fully aware. She wanted more.

"-and you? What do you and your-"

"Does he ever slap you?"

Also, not expected.

"No, Brandon would never hurt me."

"That's not what I asked, I asked if he ever slaps you."

"Oh."

She understood. At least, she thought she did.

"Well . . . no. He wouldn't want to hurt me, wouldn't want to cause me pain."

Her hand holding the whiskey filled tulip was encased by manicured fingers, a heated palm.

"Do you know the difference- the difference between 'hurt' and 'pain'?"

A whirlpool emanated from that touch. Alex felt like she was swirling within its' vortex, enraptured as she was carried down the tightening spiral.

"You described it earlier, when sharing your first time."

She slowly guided the glass from Alex's inanimate grasp and set it down. Citron twinkling waves steadied inside, the amber liquid became placid well before she continued. Janelle once again laid her arm with ease across the back of the couch, leaning slightly forward, resting a cheek upon a raised hand. Her young consort appeared pleasantly distracted, but interested enough to listen.

"Pain is a sensation like any other. Tingling, throbbing, excitement, temptation; they're all sensations -"

Janelle was slowly strumming harp like strings on Alex's knee. The feeling combined with her choice of words was, exciting. She guided the short skirt higher as her hand urged forward on the slender inner thigh.

"-just like pain. "

The legs widened just enough in welcome. They shifted towards the center as a sign to continue. Janelle fondled the thigh's crest, massaging the crease so close to her quivering cunt. Alex fought closing her eyes as she carried on.

"It's a matter of what we do with them, how we use them during the experience- that is how we know. That is how we define them. Yes, pain is a feeling- just like arousal."

The stimulating massage, the scintillating thesis, her accented purring voice-yes, Alex understood arousal.

She stopped the distracting play and pulled her hand away. Alex's body echoed with the flux, leaning as it left. Janelle wanted to keep dancing on the porcelain thigh, but more so she wanted her attention. She wanted her to listen- needed her to.

She took a sip from the once neglected whiskey, her movements an impromptu ballet. She briefly looked her student's way before focusing on the stand behind her couch- teasing a candle's flame with her fingers. Alex watched the lambent waltz; nothing existed beyond this moment- until she spoke.

"Now, hurt- hurt is an unpleasant occurrence. Our body tells us it's too much, our mind tells us not to continue, our emotions wrecked- everything within us wanting time to mend and repair. There is nothing ambiguous about hurting. When stemming from pain some say it is based on intention; the wise include perception."

Janelle took one more sip and then set the glass back atop the table. She knew Alex understood even if she wasn't aware- sensed a common bond between them early on and with time no longer questioned that it was there. Her pet project just needed a fine touch, a delicate dusting off to reveal the hidden potential.

She picked the candle, regarded it like a fine wine, then held it between them with a slight knowing smile. They had crossed a line, they were crossing it still. Alex felt like she was on the cusp of past promises about to be filled. Desire brimmed over her, unabridged lust waiting for consummation, spilling absolute want. She looked directly into Janelle's golden eyes, not pleading- demanding fruition.

"It can be quite pleasurable, pain. Divine even. Venturing through its' gamut, thrilling with its' infinite possibilities, its' varied rush."

She couldn't breathe; something within her auspiciously acknowledged- Janelle a diviner, the first to read her ignorant signs.

The dark dove-grey dress was shed from her shoulders; switching the candle's hold as needed, she pulled her long arms out one after the other. Alex was barely aware, couldn't part from the rich eyes. She brought the candle close to her bared breasts and without even looking, tilted it just so. Hot wax dripped down perfectly, the drops only hitting the tip of her taught teat. Her vision shuttered shut as her body shuddered, possessing the moment for her own- taking in her companion's gasp. Staring at her beautiful breast; Alex moaned with her, almost experienced the tight sear with her. As two more drops hit – a covetous quality filled her. She wanted to feel what the sensual gilded orb had gained. Janelle came to; leaned forward with serious intention, legs still delicately tucked beside her, the small flame heating their barely parted lips.

"I would never hurt someone Alexandra-"

The blaze lit her words, drifted with her breath.

"-but I would bless them with exquisite pain."

Their mouths met as soon as the lowered candle allowed. Alexandra was more rabid in her riposte than she imagined capable- her animated impatience unconcerned with the fire so nearby. Janelle skillfully led them to a slower tempo, calming her with quite fingers that strolled along her neck, cheek, jaw. She coaxed a trembling thigh, soothed it with a stroking palm until it was bare and settled. Alexandra was finally lost, her kisses a leisurely dream.

She tilted the candle just so. The hot wax dripped onto almost too sensitive skin, high on the creamy thigh, inches from a soaked sex.

As the young blonde whined she pushed their lips deeper in, controlling her with a firm grasp planted perfectly behind the elegant neck. There was a moment for her to recover from the shock, a moment to embrace the rush of adrenaline, to let it increase the passion within their kiss. It was a moment, wet heat hit her high again; she gasped as the electric sensation of static particles accelerated up through her. Alexandra used the force, deepened their kiss- widened her mouth. The drops came again, with less time between. The charge came again, Janelle's grip tightened to ride it with her; Alexandra clutched the beige arms out of necessity- their energy enlivened. Paraphrased moans were stated back into her mouth, her body was shivering- Janelle's remained steady. Their wet strokes were vibrating. Everything was heightened and she wanted so much more. A steady stream of wax became an aroused scream, her inner atoms collided with the constant current and its' pleasure crashed high voltages against her inner skin. Janelle's tongue collided with her sound; she crashed fluidly into her, receded -then crashed inward again. She dripped the building need onto her, let the wax harden- then tilted the candle just so once again. She pushed Alexandra back, leaned her in against the couch, still holding her power high-

"We're here Miss."

Shit. She hated being left disorganized.

Alex paid the cabbie, tipped him well, and looked at her watch- right on time. This mess would have to be filed after dinner. Time to focus, try to compartmentalize, it will all be taken care of later. She smiled as she entered the restaurant, wondering what pleasant mess Olivia was in right now. Imagining her naked and writhing she almost missed Foster as he waved. She had to get a handle on this.

"That's our guy."

Eliot woke Olivia up again- time to focus, time to be in control. She was ready-

"Back up nearby just in case?" *_Good detective*_

- damn, maybe not.

"Yup."

They exited the car; Olivia shook her head twice then drew and released two long breaths- giving her body a quick reminder that this guy was a career criminal, which despite his non-violent past, five years in prison could turn anyone into a danger.

_Come on, get a handle on this._

Ready enough, they both walked cautiously toward the no longer abandoned building.


	10. The Factory

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug*, S/M is presented.

**Confession: **Had no idea I was going to write these last two chapters, but I do love me some good ol' fashioned back story.

* * *

**Part 10: The Factory**

Chunks of dehydrated sod scattered like rocks around jagged misplaced concrete, barbed lines skewered through their almost impervious skin- it looked painful. Out of context, one could believe the concrete had been impaled. Forgetting it formerly wrapped around them liquid cool- it was guided and formed; patiently tended and waited upon while it became set. A tip toed crunch followed every other guarded step of the detective's plain practical pumps. The sound became empty as the ground beneath turned barren, asphalt that was crackled and dry. They hadn't cased the joint prior to Abraham's arrival; he would be skittish, unnecessary police presence would only dissuade re-entry. Going in blind was not ideal; years of experience could sometimes still dissolve into unnecessary risk. It depended upon how you looked at it- and how it played out.

Benson crossed one leg over the other, keeping her back close to the grey granite wall, watchfully walking the outside edge. Stabler signaled her over to the east side loading dock, signed expressions replacing their silenced radios. A door was heard creaking- interior, left side. It slammed shut; heavy boots stomped up metal stairs. He didn't know they were there. Guns drawn, they waited four beats; then stared squarely into the other's eyes- gauging how prepared they were, communicating the next intended line of action. That special mute form of articulation only found by those perfectly partnered. Eliot took the lead, looking left, stepped inside. Olivia followed, looking right, wide awake.

Cabot was having a hard time staying awake today. Her dinner with Foster was enjoyable. It had provided helpful connections that would increase her reach; she had another amusing anecdote about her father's youthful transgressions. Apparently Vassar College declining to merge with Yale directly correlated with some of his hi-jinks. The shaky attempt toward co-education became ruined further by a group of hooligans causing a ruckus with several squirrels. The image of a furred frenzy skittering through the faculty locker-room, screeching half nude prestigious females jumping atop benches and tables- she laughed to distraction. She absolutely must insist he tell her that one again.

She was able to keep her calm everyday composure intact all the way home, say a pleasant hello to Peter at the front desk. But once the elevator door shut a mirage of Olivia's exposed back greeted her- puffing large prideful breaths, expanding her muscles, pulling at the seams of her cuts. The front desk security camera, screen number three, had a wonderful view of Alexandra rubbing her back up and down against the wall, just once- Peter without a clue. Had a sound system been in place the small moan, caused by a revived flaring ache on her floor burned rear, may have caught his attention.

Once inside her apartment she began her bed-time routine. The methodical series generally comforted her. At the same point, if it was interrupted or skewed, she felt disheveled. Some times when this happened, especially when feeling off- she was compelled to start it again all over, from the top. Therapists and Doctors throughout her childhood and youth decided she was not quite OCD, but should continue her sessions and should continue to be monitored- which she did until her under-grad senior year. The humor of her proclivity toward order being considered not quite a disorder was not lost on her. But last night, it didn't feel funny.

Olivia had a funny feeling in her gut. The limited late afternoon sunshine indirectly illuminated the large space. It was painted with a monochromatic grey theme and in this limelight she felt out of place, a foreign character stuck within a film noir movie. Eliot, on the other hand, could easily have been a leading man. The genre seemed designed for men like him. Inside it felt more like a warehouse than a factory. Discolored geometric shapes on the floor where machines used to be.

Her losing fight to remain undistracted wasn't helping. Some old rope coiled by a large round column immediately stole her focus. Its' fibers were the same color and shape as the one hanging off her mirror- she shuddered as Alexandra launched a wet cunt down the entire length of her tensed thigh. A low croaking groan brought her back. Eliot was attempting to open the stairwell door quietly. He stopped when it declared that wasn't a possibility. They could go up the outer stairs on the opposite side of the building, wander through an unknown maze of disintegrating offices, or . . . Olivia grabbed an old can of oil and a small wooden stake.

_How convenient._

Eliot smiled at the gesture then braced the door. She used her shoe's heel as a hammer against the stake and pushed up a hinge's pin. The sound was next to nil, she did the same to the other. After oiling both pins and drowning both hinges she tapped them back into place. It had taken all of a minute. Eliot opened it slowly, no creak. He comically distorted his face into one of stooge like satisfaction and offered- 'ladies first'. Olivia shook her head smiling, deciding that they both had been in this line of work too long, and then remembered that wasn't really true. She was all business as soon as she hit the first step.

Cabot hit the first step of her nightly schtick for the fourth time before throwing the towel in. With each effort she had made it a little further, but the past would eventually distract her into error. While taking her shower with silk cloth she was bound to a wooden post, blindfolded, as Janelle tickled her with an ostrich feather then cracked down with a rider's crop- it had seemed like hours. She never knew where the feather would roam; the leather tongue always hit her hip in the same reddening spot. Janelle would wait until the soft trickle caused her body to shiver, yet again, before tightly lashing- her womanhood wriggling before, yet again, snatching in a tonic spurt.

_Shit._

She had used her exfoliating loofah on the right leg first, not the left. Alex turned off the water. She dried herself off, put on her robe, went to her bed, hung up the satin sleep shirt, went to her kitchen, took the tea bag out of the cup, threw it away, put the cup back in the cupboard, took the kettle off the stove, poured the almost heated water out, turned the flame off, put the kettle back on the burner- then took a deep breath and stretched her neck. She grabbed the kettle off the stove, filled it with water, put it on the burner, lit the flame, went to the cupboard, grabbed her cup . . . later, at two am, one step from completion, the word "FARGO" clamored around her mind. It caused her to forget fluffing the pillow, after opening her covers and creating a perfect right triangle- her calming sequence, yet again, dismayingly destructed. She laid down any way, unable to sleep, dreaming wide awake in random patterns.

Her morning routine had not fared any better.

This couldn't be going any better. There were three stories, the second story stair-well door was still shut; the third was still open. Considering they never heard another old rusted gripe, behind door number three was the win. They were creeping down the hall; a commotion came from the second room, right side- Abraham was still without a clue. There was a loud thump- Olivia peered over the bed to see Alexandra orgasmic'ly giggling, rubbing her thighs together; locking their eyes in a challenging stare. She looked forward, Eliot had been trying to lock their eyes, trying for a conversable stare; things could be going better. He was waiting for her to take the empty place, behind him, by the open door. She did, coming back from a place he was unaware of, by Alexandra's opening legs.

_Raise cross wristed gun, click on flashlight to disorient, aim high and centered, time to turn-_

"NYPD! Put your hands up!"

Abraham did, a few film tubes spilled off the table- a brief maraca like music shaking from them, until rolling around on the floor.

"Shit, man. This is a legit business, I got a permit, let me just get it, let me just-"

"Put them behind your head! Behind your head!"

He was smiling as he did, like this was some game of 'simon says'- Olivia kept her gun well aimed, Eliot walked forward.

"Legit, yeah I can see that. Nice location for your store by the way."

Eliot was at the table's side, lowering his gun to get out the cuffs; Abraham quickly slammed his fist down, popping a large powder filled bag- the fine white film spewed directly onto Eliot's face. He yelled and stepped back, Abraham jetted for the side door, was between its' frame before Olivia could get a lower shot; she shouldn't be shooting anyway- he was technically unarmed.

She quickly went to check on Eliot; he was wiping at his mime white face, blinking wide, and tussling his head-

"You okay?"

"Yeah yeah dam it's coke bastard covered me in coke go go go get him don't let him get away-"

As Olivia ran to follow she could hear Eliot calling into his radio as he got up . . .

"Back-up needed, suspect fleeing the scene, unarmed . . . "

She could see his heels turning to the hall- he was heading for the outside stairs. She was determined; he was not going to get away.

Cabot couldn't get away from her muddled thoughts. Walking in this morning she was greeted by a case in action. Olivia and Eliot had been steam rolling through the night, through the day- a sexual homicide. She had to plan for unforeseen legal consequences, had to focus and play catch up- she played catch up often with these two. It would be more maddening if they weren't so good. But it could be frustrating; their primary concern was catching the perp, getting the confession, solving the case- Alex's was insuring the case could last, the conviction could hold. At times these two worlds, courthouse and precinct; they were not conducive to one another. With the difficulty she found herself in composure wise she hoped this was not one of those times.

Olivia was not the only one left ludicrously wanting last night, the only one writhing while others slept. But it had to be done, had to be left unfinished, perseverance for the purpose of transcendence. That dinner she had after, with Foster of all people, it cracked into her fortitude. The last seventeen hours a hodgepodge of past lovers and present promises, phantom orgasms and bon a fide impassioned contractions. She had to finish filing through this abandoned mess of a mind- needed to compartmentalize her thoughts.

"FARGO!"

File: A signaled stop- their safe word. Alexandra had never needed its' use; never going beyond a requested "yellow"- slow down. It surprised them both when it was Janelle who screamed for sanctuary. Her mistress had also never needed its' use; had never strayed from her role as a well ordered dominate- the primary reason for why their liaison eventually ended.

File: Janelle started Alexandra's education. They met bi-weekly for a full year. She was the ideal pupil. She caught on fast; understood without having to be told, knew without a lecture- of course, oration was still present. From Janelle she learned what it was to be dominated, to be served so exquisitely well. She learned as a submissive you guided power; your re-actions, your response- that was what inspired. You could instigate a line of action with a well played return. She learned a new value for pain, an almost limitless pleasure- almost.

File: Everything was too pre-planned, too well-defined, too . . . just so. The props were always lined up on a table, they were always discussed, there was always a narration as she used one; always some sort of theatric between. Alex could time their play down to the minute- each session would last one hour and thirteen minutes, sometimes one hour and fifteen. Subservience wasn't the issue, Janelle's need for ordered control was.

File: She was all too familiar with control, had need for its' restrictions consistently, and her daily life already revolved around order. What she wanted, what she desired, was a moment of blissful inner chaos. For structure, propriety, decorum, civility- all to be stripped from her very self; exposing a coiled zenith, the kundalini of urge within her core. She wanted to be brought to it, subjugated to it- to have and be allowed.

File: This couldn't happen with Janelle. The first time she fought back it was not well received. She hadn't been brought to that place, the desire to lash out hadn't stemmed from need. It had been a forced feeling. After sawing through her silk binds with the coarse wood she was tied to, she tackled her turned madam- pulling her arms back high, roughly rubbing her sex on the small curve just before her plump rear. This wasn't pre-planned, wasn't on Janelle's agenda. As she pulled her head up by lush raven hair, whispering a solid "I'm going to fuck myself on your entirety", Janelle demanded to be released. Using their safe word, she wasn't playing.

File: Alexandra felt her actions had been nowhere near out of line; it was nothing compared to what was done to her by Janelle consistently-but everyone has their own boundaries. She was never really forgiven for breaking some unknown code; she felt Janelle was responding unfairly. They never discussed it, though Alex tried. They met less often, Alex busy with internships and prep for graduate study, not really caring. She would always be grateful to Janelle for getting her started and that was that. Their romance teetered off to nothing.

The last wrung of the emergency ladder teetered off to nothing. Abraham dropped down, his speed slowed; he wasn't cut out for this much running. Olivia dropped down seconds behind him; she ran more than this daily. The only thing on his side was the threat of capture; a cornered prey always fights with more veracity. Olivia had an added motivation in her corner; losing twice in twenty four hours was unlikely. He sprinted down the alley, knocking over the last trash can from a long trail of bins as he headed for the street. It didn't slow her down; the aluminum barrel had barely strayed from its' lined file.

File: Brandon ended up leaving her. She tried introducing him to this new form of bedroom play. He took some elements in stride- light bindings, playful spankings, gentle nipping; but bottled up anger was swelling as it continued building. The final straw was when she begged him to pull her hair- bit down hard into his shoulder for encouragement, rammed his member hard into her pussy. He threw her off and as he gathered his clothes screamed a litany of names and profanity- spitting on her just before leaving. It took a while for certain unsavory rumors about her to stop circulating.

File: She hoped maybe it was possible to have the picture perfect political image- married, two kids; with a husband who understood this need. She gave up the third time around. Jared enjoyed a lot of varying sensations, but hated the pain of an erection that stood firm patiently. Their relationship also didn't recover. Now conventional romance and the caustic erotic were compartmentalized separately.

File: Stephanie showed her a darker side she was careful to never again see. A beautiful fair red-head she met as a grad at Harvard Law. Stephanie had a 145 iq and adorably freckled shoulders. They shared two classes, a love of long distance running, and the aphrodisiac of passion caused bleeding. Alexandra enjoyed when it stemmed from a primeval rush, a bang or biting- Stephanie liked slicing. It was thrilling to discover she had a natural ability to dominate and please.

File: But she grew more and more uncomfortable as they met more often- consistently refusing to travel into more dangerous territories. Stephanie's mask fell eventually. The young genius wanted to be hurt, wanted to be broken beyond repair- her deep seated self hatred a form of sexual suicide. Alex stopped participating, risked serious injury as she struggled to stop her from slaughtering a thigh- the cuts deep enough to be a medical emergency. At the hospital she recommended counseling, expressed caring, tried for reasoning. She crossed a line that needed crossing. Stephanie left immediately and quit school her second year; leaving Alexandra with her concerns and with nightmares of masochistic destruction. It was a couple of years before fully healing.

File: Gregory rekindled her inner joy for aroused dueling susceptibility. He taught her the world of bondage and auto-erotica. They met at an antique book store, he struck up conversation when he saw her perusing through a book about Kimbaku Ichimai. He owned the mesmerizing establishment. From him she learned a plethora of knots, restraints, rigs, and tools. Gregory would tie her up in an amazing new way each time; each time her body would burst in a new way from the inside out. Being fully contained limited her outer re-actions, heightened every inner response- and the ache was glorious. There was no civility, no decorum, and definitely no propriety. After, he would take her through the process step by step: this is how you hog tie, do a reverse prayer position, knot the perfect crotch rope, why you do a balltie, safety precautions, the importance hydrating.

File: Her favorite was a form of mummification- it dulled every sensation, her arousal would build without knowing, and once released from her wrappings. . . every little touch was fire-works. His favorite was anything asymmetrical, the more awkward his body's positioning the longer his erection held. They did this for awhile; he was an excellent lover, an excellent teacher. Eventually the lessons stopped and instead they would just have tea. He preferred men; Alexandra now knew she preferred women. They were still friends and would frequent Chelsea galleries. His Christmas and Birthday presents were still always the best.

_Knock- Knock_

Hannah opened the door, Cabot's annoyed harsh expression caused her to voice to become even more mouse like.

"Cragen, he wanted to know if, if all of the reports thus far are . . . satisfactory. In case . . . in case-"

"You can tell him they're fine- thus far."

"Okay."

She left quickly, feeling a little guilty for interrupting, for interrupting . . . something.

Alex put her head in her hands-

_Where was I? _

She had to finish this up quickly, she didn't have all day.

_I could chase you all day._

Olivia was right there, she could almost touch him. Her chest was on fire, her legs felt like rubber, Eliot's figure was starting to recede behind her, but Abraham's was right there. And the fool kept looking back, slowing himself down. They had crossed two blocks and one avenue, the sound of sirens was getting closer, back up was coming, they were almost here. The rail thin Abraham squeezed between two parked cars, hoping this damn cop would lose time running around them, ready to run across the fast trafficked street. Olivia hopped onto the sedan's hood, hell no was she gonna lose time, and in an irresponsibly acrobatic move that held no concern for the consequences- jumped.

The ringing phone caused Alexandra to jump. She was almost through, going at a pace inappropriate for even speed dating. Rachel: blonde housewife, loved whips- Ann: buff orthopedic surgeon, wrestling and general mayhem- Corie: looked like a 1950's journalist, game for anything. She probably could have stayed with Corie forever, but the thrill seeking documentarian was a big fan of anonymous club sex. The dungeons were conscientious and safety was 'assured', but it still was a place Alexandra couldn't stand. She needed back story, liked knowing the person in 'normal' settings. An individual was too three dimensional to quickly sum up after one or two encounters. Sex was like underwater cave exploration- greater depth could only be achieved by swimming deeper down into the same pool, beautiful new caverns discovered along the way, all with new possibility. Besides, she hated sharing.

"Cabot speaking . . . I'll be there."

They got this guy Abraham coming in, apparently Olivia's catch was movie worthy; she should go down and insure legality.

File: Olivia Benson . . . Olivia Benson was fast becoming too big for this mental little metal box. Thus far, perfection- only three times together and this modern day Artemis was already leaving her disheveled. She could barely recall the last time she laid awake all night floating through clouds of lust and wanting. It had been forever since so many moments in her past demanded attention all at once, an assembly line of needy memories. She had never struggled to work. On that note-there was one she needed to write, something had to be done. Olivia's retaliation for yesterday had to be timely out of necessity.

Everyone cheered when Olivia entered the precinct. Word traveled fast around here, especially if it was juicy. Back-up had witnessed her 'Hollywood jump and tumble'; Eliot couldn't stop grinning as she read the Miranda rights, giving her a hearty 'at a' boy' pat on the back once Abraham was in the car. Jefferson was telling the story to Hawkins as she walked by-

"It was amazing. She jumped off the hood- she was like six feet in the air, tackled him high, they tumbled on the ground, he was on his stomach, she got his hands behind his back, her knee was-"

It did feel good to ram her knee into the center of his spine.

"-then frickin' wonder woman over there saw the car coming-"

She was able to roll them away, out of traffic, ending once again with her kneeling on top of him. A once in a lifetime move she probably couldn't do again even if she wanted to.

"Olivia freakin' Benson. My partner folks."

Eliot addressed the room, seemed to be enjoying all the attention.

"Lay off it already."

"I'm told your exploits were rather exceptional today detective."

The precise diction, the melodic intonation- Olivia remained seated and turned to look at Alexandra. Her coquette almost missed a beat; enamored by the sparkling up-casted brown eyes, filled with a fluid flame of craving. Necessity-

"I'm pleased to know you're capable."

- stated dryly.

The geyser that had been mounting discharged instantly- Olivia, un-moving, mute, her stare riddled with gushing steam.

She spoke only as needed while everyone met in Cragen's office, daringly continued to stare at Alex directly, devouring her with greed. A small blush rose up Cabot's milky skin, failing at the stony pretense of her not caring. It was determined all was well, thus far, in the investigation- they would pick it up tomorrow. Abraham would be more forthcoming after a night in lock-up, Munch and Finn would have finished the first round of canvassing.

"Good job everybody, great job Olivia, see you tomorrow morning."

Cabot went to Cragen as soon as he finished, Olivia headed to her desk, went to grab her things. There was a folded note in her top drawer, same paper, and the same delicate handwriting.

"I was disappointed with how easily you lost yesterday evening.

Don't you want to taste my liquid honey?

Yours reminds me of the earth, woodsy with a hint of salt.

I've been told mine is like a ripe pineapple, citrusy and sweet.

But you wouldn't know would you detective?"

Pressurized passion once again ejected turbulently. Her breathing became heavy, then determinedly steady.

"You want to get a drink? Celebrate your stardom?"

Eliot couldn't tell what she was staring so intently at; he followed the gaze to Cragen's office, looked back and noticed the note.

"Some kind of fan-mail?"

He joked.

"Thanks, but no; I need to take care of something."

Olivia was miles away but she was smiling at him, she was trying.

"Okay . . . let me know if you need anything-"

He laughed low one more time-

"-wonder woman."

Still smiling as he left.

Alexandra was also turning down the offer for a drink, walking through the now opened door of Cragen's office.

". . . I can't. It was difficult getting started this morning and there are still some things I need taken care of."

She waved with seeming politeness to Olivia as she left.

"What are you still doing here? Go, go, get. Get outta here."

Cragen mockingly shooed Olivia to leave.

She stood up, she was going. There was a purchase she needed before returning. An item she had never really understood nor wanted before, but now she saw it as a necessity.

"Olivia-freakin'-Benson."

Cragen stated proudly, chuckling a little.

"Goodnight Captain."

She pushed the elevator button, all patience, all control. It opened with a ding.

That's right, she was 'Olivia-freakin'-Benson'. An impish smirk blitzed her face expectantly.

It was time to one-up that dam tease.

* * *

**P.S.- **turned out a little ryhme'y :P


	11. The Desk

**No Rights:** I don't own SVU, I don't own these characters, I don't own nothin'.

**Disclaimer**: Rated "M" for a reason, probably more than "M" *shrug*, **S/M and mild EA is present**.

**Confession:** Miss-spelled words are intentional ;)

**Quickie:** Once again a shout out to "Secretary". I loved a similar scene present in this movie. Watching two episodes of LawandOrder:SVU, season 3, immediately after finishing "Secretary"- led my freakish little mind to this. I decided then and there that Olivia and Alexandra would make perfect S/M partners. A play-ground within intercourse that is consistently, in my opinion, miss-represented as abusive and filled with hate. Really, when done responsibly- it's filled with mutual trust, mutual adoration, and a wide variety of combating sensations (respectfully keeping in mind that everyone is entitled to their own set boundaries.)

* * *

**Part 11: The Desk**

A ray of marigold cleaved the room in two. The dividing line, a fabrication from the opening door; it was merely light from the hallway- intruding into her domain. It laid there un-obscured, unobstructed; a bright solid beam against her lowly lit reserve. Emitting anticipation; giving a long moment of reflection about what was going to happen next.

It pulled at her. Her blood no longer circulated through inner rivers; it surged toward, was beckoned by- a single long stream of light. Perseverance- Alexandra stayed seated at her desk; working by her small stained glass lamp, scribbling bits of nothing on important papers- their significance now obsolete. Fortitude- even as Olivia entered, even as the door was slowly closed shut, even as she heard the distinctive click of a lock; ink flowed steady.

Olivia approached, stopped five feet from her desk, the very center of her space- staring silently. Control- Alexandra did not look up, would not look up; refused to recognize the contingency standing there, closing motionless upon her- the scratching pen becoming a solitary sound.

The hushed stand-off continued as she set another sheet face down upon the others and began her writing anew. Olivia still had not spoken, still had not moved, and for the first time Alexandra debated; questioning if she should remain looking down and say something cryptic, or should she merely look up- remaining speechless. The other option, persisting to ignore, was becoming a non-viable solution to this wanting predicament and Olivia wasn't budging. There had been too many hours in this last twenty-seven, something had to be done. Necessity- Alexandra looked up and said nothing.

She was powerfully beautiful. A vision to torment seasoned sculptors, that final piece they couldn't achieve. Her lips alone could never be re-created, even after years of study. And no stone, no formable material could they use, that would do justice to her skin- the color of coffee with a healthy drop of heavy cream. It looked even better with a dollop of yellow, a dab of purple- with a splash of red. When she passionately fixed her eye's upon you there was-

-Alexandra's silence wasn't communicating the way she had intended it to. Those eyes knew, she had been revealing everything. Another first, her embarrassed gaze wavered slightly- settling upon the note Olivia held in her hand. She needed to compensate for what was a noticeably shaky start-

"Bring it to-"

"Who say's I care to know?"

Her command interrupted, by a sure steady voice.

"Ex. cuse me-"

Hers' hitched, by an unsteady bereft feeling.

"Who say's I care about the taste of your- liquid honey is it? Yes, your 'liquid honey'."

Olivia spoke candidly; opened the letter for reference- like it was nothing note-worthy, just a doodle. Alexandra smirked, finally feeling assured. She could play this game. This was just a cry for attention, something she enjoyed giving, but it was rather disappointing. She thought better of Olivia, believed her to be a better match. Of course, she had only been fucked twice really.

"Your vigor last night wasn't proof enough?"

Her determination was regained with the conceited quip, the brash vocal was intentional. So was the way she methodically removed her glasses with one hand, placed them folded at the opposite edge of her desk- a sign of her past authority.

"You should put those back on. You're going to need them in a moment."

Olivia still hadn't moved from her spot, still hadn't changed her almost monotone delivery- but she had rejected the suggestive gesture. Alexandra was intrigued- but enough of her clout was present to not show anything.

She kept their fixed tension and elegantly rose from her seat. She delicately trailed the wooden border with some fingertips, sauntering around to the front- removing the barricade between them. She daintily leaned in a slight sit, smoothly picked up her frames, and hooked them onto her white button-up blouse; laying them between her slightly exposed breasts- daring the detective.

Olivia didn't speak, didn't seethe- surprisingly she still was not responding.

She slowly widened her legs, letting the movement hitch her skirt up, the cloth rising tightly against her thighs-

"What prize were you fighting for then, my pet- if not to taste me?"

-teasing their inner rise, lightly pursing her lips, letting her breath deepen, allowing her aroused state to show- taunting her sore loser. Alexandra loved playing with fire- literally and figuratively.

Olivia finally came. She placed her leg between the spread, ran her hands up the lawyer's waist, gently plucked the glasses from their place, lightly pursing her lips, carefully putting them back atop the adorable nose, letting her breath deepen, securing them behind the charming ears; slowly leaning into one's nautical curve, whispering sweetly-

"Punishment Alexandra; that was my gratifying prize already received-"

She seized her wrists with bruising pressure and her capture slightly gasped. It was the same catch, the same dream inspiring act from a little over three months ago; the same impassioned move that had compelled Cabot to act- inviting Benson to her office, giving her a taste of what was rough and risqué, grinding its' want into her. Alex was brought back, that same storm was brewing within Olivia's pupils- she wanted her to release its fury violently, she wanted her to skillfully twist and give another, wanted her to force their lips into a hard demanding kiss.

"-this is your winner's reward for services left un-rendered-"

She did skillfully twist them harshly- bringing them to the point just before sprain, pressing them roughly into the small of her back. Olivia twisted just a little more- another sharp shot of pain snaked through her bones, caused her to purl in a tight treble. But instead of a kiss- her body was whirled with the same cylindrical force manifested within Olivia's mirrored hurricane. Her chest crashed hard into the unyielding wood, her buckling knees knocked severely into the desk's backing; her high-heeled feet struggled to find footing. She purled again.

It was Olivia's muscular center that pushed her rear up; gave her some grounding- forced her lower back to stretch into a bent over position. It was Olivia's experience that kept her wrists braided tightly; using only one of her own- forcing them to sit in pained patience before cool heavy metal clasped in a cutting replacement. It was her years of training; with a new found valuable use, which clinched the fair neck with marked power as she bore her weight down. Alexandra's body unable to match her strength, her hands cuffed and unable to fight back- the once pompous victor now in the detective's over-excited custody. Her teasing perpetrator thrummed in stifled approval. This would suffice.

"Now, about your rather assumptive note."

As Olivia disengaged, rising up briefly to unfold the document- Alex just had to try and lift as well. Her efforts were immediately checked- Olivia easily and quickly shoving her back down with a one armed push. Her center still pressed firmly into Cabot's ass and, as she shoved, it further jammed the lawyer's crotch into the desks' ridge- so she tried to rise again. Astonished by the increased force as she was shoved back down, becoming more turned on as her torso was leaned into, as her skewed glasses were fixed- as her head was mashed down to keep it in place. A pen molding its' image into her flushed cheek as Olivia warmly husked-

"Stay."

So she did; her sex already twitching. She watched from slanted peripherals expectantly as staples were smacked into her note, Olivia attaching it to a small wooden frame. It held a photo of her graduating from Harvard Law; the piece of paper perfectly smothered the image- the frame proved perfect, as it was set inches in front of her, to hold the message clearly for her sideway view.

"Let's review its' contents, shall we?"

Olivia stood confidently behind her, Alexandra had acquiesced- she remained hand-cuffed, bent over, dairy-air held high.

"Read it aloud."

An order, it required her participation- should she fight again or without contest let this continue? Her sex spasm'ed an answer- continue, there was time enough for a spirited struggle.

"I was disappointed wHEH-"

WHACK!

Her reading was interrupted by an iron like smack to the center of her ass. Olivia briefly kept her palm there, her fingers curled into the curve until she slowly pulled away, her hand drawing back, staying low-

"Continue. . . "

Alexandra was still slightly winded; there was no throb, the assault held too much linear force for a sting.

"-with how easily you lost yestEHR-"

The next one paddled a grunt through her, the fingers once again curled into her curve; the hand was once again slowly pulled away.

"-day evening. Don't you want to tAEH-st my liquid honey? Yours reminds mAEH- of the earth, woodsy with a hAIH-nt of salt.-"

Her usual perfect annunciation faltered more with each firm smack. Olivia didn't wind-mill her arm, but the dispatched under-handed connection held all the alacrity of a fastball pitch- sending pleasure careening through her strike zone. Alexandra's body jockeyed, her breath staggered, her arousal cached in large bursts.

"-I've been told mine is like a rAIH-pe pineapple, citrusy and s-AHWE-eet. But you wouldn't know-"

WHACK!

"-ahh-would you detective?"

In the note, her last sentence had been a taunting question- now, with one well timed wallop, it was a question of need. Would you detective?

"Again."

Alexandra's only thought-

_Oh yes please._

During the second round of recitation Olivia struck with more flare in her steady form; accelerating down from high, swiping from the side, rushing onward from down low. Her rhythm increased, her cadence regenerated, her strength rejuvenated with the catalyst of every grunt and groan. Alexandra viewed the note with more and more difficulty- her shape rattled into different directions, jostling about thunderously. The high hits caused her to stiffen- the police grade handcuffs cutting into her skin. The low hits caused her crotch to jam forward- the desk's ridge bruising her thighs, taunting her wanting sex. Besides the uniquely different decibels densely proclaiming contact had been made, she could barely hear the sound of her commanded soliloquy. The words became ambiance, devoid of meaning; except for the last three- Olivia's timing was once again perfect.

WHACK!

"Would you detective?"

It was only their fourth time together, and Alexandra already felt like she was begging. Olivia had stopped. The time to challenge was now; she had to regain some composure, some semblance of control. It didn't matter if she was successful, trying for dominance would be enough to prolong this incredible scene. And despite her fatigue she wanted this to last; it couldn't be over so soon. Before Alex could manage her situation toward some supervised ideal, Olivia proved any participation based in captious contemplation wasn't necessary. She pressed her downward palm into the already stretched skirt, making it expand beyond the designer cut- popping its' stitching. The steady plunge continued until all layered cloth crowded into the lawyer's cunt. Alexandra couldn't act beyond a tentative rub, beyond impulsively whining.

"Assumption one: calling this liquid honey."

Olivia's tone was playful, almost demeaning, as the most outer garment became soiled. There was a substantive amount of wetness present from her little romp- and now it was soaking through.

"It's cum Alexandra. This is your cum."

She couldn't move as the skirt was unzipped, as it was brought down with her stockings and underwear, everything bunched awkwardly around her still parted knees. Olivia kept a hand inches away from her exposed reddened rear; enjoying the warm conductive heat, noting the patches of purple permeating through the pinkish skin. She could see Alexandra's pussy pulse with her overwrought breath, could see the tempting 'ripe pineapple' drivel out once, twice. But she was in control, her mistress was gloriously wanting; the alluring flavor she hankered for would have to wait. She took her sweet time before continuing.

"Assumption two: that I care about how it taste."

Alexandra's head rolled into the desk as she wantonly whimpered. She had to have some more contact. The tough diligence brought upon her so recently was sorely missed; her ass finally felt the wallops' searing sting. She needed something brought upon her again, or-better yet, inside her; anything.

"What if I don't? Maybe I'm better served not caring."

Her wish was provokingly granted. She could feel the cold steel of Olivia's belt buckle resting lightly between her cheeks. The detective's fingers grazed the inside of her no longer numbed posterior as she unlatched it; they fiddled in her crack as it was undone. The leather rubbed against her in a long drawn out line as it was pulled out from the loops, a single silver button pressed its' freeze between her seat- a little period punctuating the belt's release. At first Alexandra's womanhood stirred with each small pleasurable sensation, now it pumped in celebration.

"Assumption three: that you don't care-"

Olivia kept the belt in her hand as she unbuttoned her pants, lording its' presence over her, just inside her; a gesture of encouragement- stay still and I just might find a worthwhile use. It was working; Alexandra didn't budge as the scratch of a zipper ran down her bottom's slit, as jean buffed down its' outer contours, as it was tickled with the soft curl of trimmed bush.

"-that you don't crave my tongue's fucking."

The mere hope of it sent Cabot over the edge. Her hips began gyrating, her pussy seeking whatever relief it could get; imagining pressure was present in the air, trying to will the too high wooden ridge upfront to lower, to move to a better angle. Olivia let out a low satisfied laugh as her high-in-mighty seductress audibly sniveled, obviously struggled- and then cracked hard upon the undulating ass. She leaned her weight down, once again clinched the fair nape, and gleefully hissed close to her ear-

"Impatience was never a trait I associated with you before."

Alexandra moaned in agreement, stifled a 'please'. Olivia discovered an un-planned use for her belt. Originally she thought it'd be fun for lashings, but now . . . she brought it under and around her slender neck, looped it through and pulled. An improvised leash to keep her rapidly disobedient Cabot in line and from her purring- with this she also agreed.

"Now that you've found a new appreciation for your rather poetic writing, read it aloud- again."

She didn't yet, was waiting . . . Olivia tugged, gave another hard ass smacking.

"Again."

_Oh yes please. _

She didn't yet, was waiting . . . Olivia tugged harder, smacked even more harshly. As Alexandra was rocked her moan was choked- small stars twinkled lightly as the paper faded back into view.

"I said-Again!"

_Oh yes please._

She didn't yet, was waiting . .. there was no aggressive retaliation- Olivia paused. She wasn't going to keep playing into these guided reactions. Instead she placed her hand between them. The backing dipped into the lawyer's neglected juices, lubricated them up through her crack. Cabot's ass was touched with bending knuckles, hinting at the finger pressing into the other woman's corridor. It started to swirl up and down- Olivia was polishing her own pearl. She made sure every selfish caress was felt, held nothing back and focused on her own pleasure, letting any organic utterance be heard.

Alexandra forgot what she was fighting for, becoming more aroused by this shared self-indulgence than anything she had once planned. The tossing overseer continued as she started to gyrate again- trying to participate in any way capable, wanting to stake some claim on this chance for release. As soon as Alexandra verbalized her enjoyment Olivia abruptly stopped. She coiled the belt in one fist and left the other in its' place, waiting.

If she wanted more she was going to have to be more agreeable.

"Again."

Alexandra harrumphed before willingly granting.

"I was disappointed by . . ."

Tonight, just like yesterday, Olivia far from disappointed.

She started slow, her actions spanning through an entire sentence. As Alexandra would open- Olivia's finger would stroll up her own avenue then skip on her clit, the lawyer's sensing hind always a shadowed companion. A few marks in she would begin to pull up on the leash; Alexandra's head would slowly rise with it, her increasingly smothered chords would struggle to finish. Right at the portions end, just when her passageway was at the brink of full constriction, Olivia's raised hand would heavily smack down; her head would drop back onto the desk, her center would crash back into its' ridge, her exposed back end would sting, air would gulp back through her- the last word would always come out as a yelp. Except for the last three of course, the final sentence would always be cut into two, insuring Alexandra clearly stated-

WHACK!

"WOULD you detehctive?"

Olivia would sternly hush out her continuing command-

"Again."

-becoming more and more excited as her madam moaned in appreciation, went still and gathered determination, daintily placed her head in the proper position, then set her sights squarely onto the note; whole-heartedly obeying.

"I was. . . "

After three small series of the same performance; the measures were now memorized- Olivia escalated. Nothing strolled, nothing slowly pulled; she thrust forward as her fingers ran in circles, she flat-out yanked while raising her arm, her heavy hand no longer dropped down- it cracked. Alexandra's head kept slamming back down ready to soon be brought back up, her center crashed back into the desk ready to soon be jerked away or, better yet-further into, bruising the same spot on her upper thigh, her wrists now buzzing in slicing strain through and through. Oxygen was gulped quickly out of necessity; she was ready, waiting for it to be depleted down to empty. Each crack noticeably expanded her determination, noticeably extended her arousing state. Olivia in response became a well-fueled machine of rocketing power and Alexandra's body, soaring through episodic fits, experienced celestial chaos.

"Again."

The earnest masturbation was a magnetic field of uninhibited expedition, Alexandra's being yielded to its' gravity. No matter how far her bottom bounded to and fro with each crack, yank, drop, grind; it always pulled back- driving into the increasingly combined wet connection. The quick tight strangles compressed all speech into bursting rays of light, squeezing condensed air into an optical glow. Her building orgasm begged her to keep trying; to attempt a continued production of these ultra-violet vocals before collision- Olivia's crack a narrow jet of shattering interruption, a reverse shock surging stellar stimulation. Soon she didn't allow even a millisecond for Alexandra's body to discern, to appreciate, to conceive this universal height- every action seemed to combine with its' opposite, with its' equal. Whether she was actually saying words or unintelligibly babbling neither woman knew, neither cared. Olivia was being loud again. Alexandra's core was collapsing in on itself, a hyper nova coming into view; this could not be maintained, could no longer be contained – she exploded. Olivia wrecked above her, her own orgasm coming fragmented through the splintered screams below.

She remained standing, breathing heavily as her lover rode the long wave-lengths, muttering into the desk-

"would you detective, would you detective, would you. . . "

The murmurs continued as she found her strength, as she pulled up and buttoned her pants. Olivia now understood why Alexandra always seemed to find energy to move before she did. Watching her rock and lazily writhe- still reciting, bare assed and bent over; Olivia smiled. It wasn't one of present satisfaction- though this was rather gratifying; it was one of imminent indulgence. She briefly held her hand above the heated rear, still catching her breath- the fair skin a fire of red, pink, yellow, and purple. Surprisingly it shifted up a little, trying to be touched. Olivia smiled again; the blonde was in fact insatiable.

She grabbed the cuffed hands and forced Cabot to stand through wobbling knees. Alex was half aware, still gathering air, still seeing stars- but she was expecting her to say it, was lost in the want for her to, to demand it one more time- instead Olivia nuzzled her neck, lightly kissed her cheek before sweetly whispering into her ear ,

"You're taking me to your place tonight."

Essentially she did-

commanding once 'again'.

* * *

**P.S.-** Became two chapters as I was writing; Olivia hasn't used her recent purchase yet *hehe*

**P.P.S-** Work got needy. Too many assignments; too little time. Finally have time to write again, next one up soon.


End file.
